


Where Do Birds Go When It Rains

by reddhede



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A bit of smut here and there, Alpha Harry Styles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg Louis, Omega Louis Tomlinson, Prince Harry Styles, Unplanned Pregnancy, mentions of underage marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddhede/pseuds/reddhede
Summary: There are worse places for an omega to end up than stuck in a loveless marriage to a wealthy nobleman.  Louis has a roof over his head and food in the cupboards and, most importantly, his family is taken care of.  But when everything in his life explodes into a beautiful chaos of unknowns, for the first time in his life Louis has the chance to decide his own fate.  Every choice comes with a price, and soon he'll have to figure out what he's willing to sacrifice - the freedom he's always wanted, or a love he's never even dreamed of.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 56
Kudos: 218





	1. Wrongfully Accused

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I'm working on the final book in the Right Back Home To You series, but in the meantime... here's another thing that I'm working on :) love you all, thanks for reading!

As much as Louis hated going up to his alpha’s room when there was a new flavor of the week warming his bed, he did rather enjoy the panic in their eyes as he played the shocked and dismayed husband upon witnessing their little trysts.

“Richard!” he exclaimed, throwing open the door and collapsing dramatically against the wall with a hand to his forehead. “How could you?”

High-pitched squeals and displeased grunts sounded from beneath the covers as a man’s head – beard as full as his head was bald – popped up somewhere near the footboard. “What are you doing here?” he grumbled, smacking at the sheets that were still writhing suspiciously beside him. “I’m busy.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Well apparently you have been double-booked because Lord Dark and Dangerous downstairs seems to believe that you should be conversing with _him_ at the present moment.”

“What?” The covers were thrown aside revealing all too much of Richard as well as the curvy redhead still stationed between his knees. “Who’s here?”

Louis touched a finger to his lips as if thinking deeply. “Tall as a horse, wears all black, entirely too many daggers hidden in his belt.” He would have made a joke then about how that would explain why the man acted like he had a stick up his ass all the time, but the humor would have been wasted on one such as Richard. “Believe he referred to himself as ‘the raven’ or some such bird.” Louis, of course, knew exactly who it was – he wasn’t a very good artist, but he kept sketches and detailed logs of all of his husband’s ‘business partners’ – but he wasn’t supposed to know anything and had gotten very good at playing dumb.

“The crow? The crow is here?” Louis shrugged, but apparently this was enough of a confirmation. “Shitshitshit.” Richard continued muttering curses as he stepped into some trousers, missing one leg and nearly pulling himself to the floor. When Louis barely stifled a chuckle, he turned to glare at him. “Worthless omega.”

“Would you have him take the meeting up here instead? Perhaps your friend here can… _entertain_ him as well.”

“How dare you,” she hissed. “I am not some common whore – you cannot speak to me that way.” Even caught with her knickers down, the woman spoke with such entitled arrogance that Louis had to assume she was the daughter – or perhaps wife – of another nobleman. “Richard, he can’t speak to me that way.”

“Louis, apologize.” It was a half-hearted effort, as Richard was still piling on his finest robes and most gaudy jewelry in a frenzy, and Louis stood blinking at them both.

The redhead stomped her foot – literally stomped it like a child throwing a tantrum. “ _Command_ him,” she demanded.

It had been quite some time since Richard had used his authoritative alpha tone to compel Louis to do anything, and he didn’t think he would bother expending the energy to do so now for such a petty request. But apparently Richard felt some need to pacify this woman and stood to face him squarely.

“ **Apologize to Maria for your intrusion and insult**.” Louis’ omega body trembled in response to his bondmate’s command, the need to please and obey written into his very DNA. But his mind was strong and had a tentative hold on his tongue. “Just get it over with – you are only hurting yourself.” Richard’s tone was more exasperated than sympathetic – he’d been through this battle before with Louis, and didn’t have time for it at the moment. “ **Now**.”

The whip of the second command lashed out and had Louis on his knees, stomach roiling in an attempt to override his nature. It was moments like these that Louis hated what he was and what society allowed others to do to him. His only privilege and purpose in this world was to bear children for his alpha, and after 10 years of marriage to the bastard he had not even done that.

“I’m s-sorry, Maria.” The words were choked and stuttered without an ounce of sincerity, but Richard was appeased enough to stride out of the room.

Maria moved to follow, but leaned down to pass on a few words to Louis before she left. “He will not tolerate your insubordination forever. Your days here are numbered.”

Louis wasn’t sure whether that was an observation or a threat, but either way she was correct. He just needed to make it two more years. Two more years with this ugly, controlling man and their contract would be up. All his siblings will have come of age, and Louis had enough evidence of his husband’s treasonous affairs to have him hanged. The breaking of the bond would be painful – a pain that Louis knew firsthand – and Louis would likely live out the rest of his days as a despised outcast or pitiable spinster.

But at least he would be free.

For the first time since he was a child, Louis would be free to go and see and do whatever he wanted, whatever he was able. For a twice-bonded (and subsequently twice-broken) and seemingly barren omega, those choices were slim, but having Niall as a friend certainly helped his chances.

Normally Louis would have stuck around and tried to gather more information – or, rather, evidence – on their misdeeds, but honestly the ‘crow’ gave him the creeps. So instead of eavesdropping on whatever nefarious plans Richard and the bird – and possibly Maria, come to think of it – were up to, Louis decided to pay said friend a visit in town.

Niall was the owner and proprietor of one of the most well-respected apothecaries in the country. They had met as children – Niall’s father having provided medical care for free to some of the more desolate populations in the kingdom, of which Louis’ family certainly qualified – and Niall had taken over the trade when his parents died of the widespread famine that plagued their land when they were teenagers.

Niall was also the reason that Louis had managed to avoid being impregnated with Richard’s demon spawn for the last decade. Suppressants were illegal, since alphas viewed them as an affront to their right to progeny and, well, alphas happened to be the ones in power and making the laws. But demand was still high – especially in brothels and poor communities where children were more burden than blessing – and the black market was flooded with homemade pills and powders. Many of these substances were untested and dangerous, but no one seemed to care when destitute omegas ended up dead in their misguided attempts to break the law.

Louis, though, was lucky enough to have a best friend that did this for a living. He knew going into the marriage what kind of a man Richard was – what kind of parent he would be – and, despite the constant itch of his inner omega that longed to be filled with pups, took precautions to ensure that none but him would be subject to the noble’s cruelty.

“Not usually here on a Sunday,” Niall commented without looking away from the customer he was ringing up as Louis joined him behind the counter.

“Richard is not usually so asinine on the holy day.” The woman paying for her medications balked at Louis’ casual derision of his bondmate, and he looked her square in the eyes to add, “How was I to expect my husband’s Tuesday whore would occupy his bed on a Sunday? Quite unacceptable, if you ask me.”

“Come see us again, Mrs.—eh, fuck it,” Niall trailed off as she snatched her bottles and scurried out the door with a withering glare at the two of them. “Yer losing me customers.”

“Nah, everyone knows you’re the best pharmacist around.”

Niall side-eyed his best friend from the ladder he had started climbing to gather stock from behind the counter. “But you know that Grimmie’s set up an apothecary two towns over. Can’t make a tincture for shite, but he’s an alpha – he’s already got a reputation that took me years to build.”

“And when people start dying on his ill-equipped big bad alpha watch, they’ll come running back to their favorite beta with their tails between their legs,” Louis said, giving Niall’s head an affectionate pat once his feet were back on the floor. “Your work speaks for yourself.”

“Yeah, and unfortunately you speak for me too,” Niall muttered, taking the supplies he’d gathered and pulling bottles off the shelves around the store to refill them.

“Don’t be like that,” Louis pouted, taking over pouring some powdered ginger root in its appropriately labeled package. Niall was still ignoring him, and Louis thought maybe he was actually angry with him. “I can go if you want. I know… I know I’m here a lot.”

Niall put a hand on Louis’ shoulder to still his meticulous task. “You know you’re always welcome here. I just- I worry about you. That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.”

As if saying the words aloud brought truth to them, a pair of royal guards busted through the door – literally almost tore the hinges straight off – their eyes set on the only two occupants of the store. They stormed over, their steps perfectly in sync and so heavy that they caused the glass bottles lining the walls to rattle and clink.

“Louis William Tomlinson, of House Armand?” Louis didn’t acknowledge the namesake, and instead of waiting for an answer they yanked up his sleeve to reveal the symbol of his house that had been tattooed on his arm upon his bonding to Richard. Now that his identity was confirmed, the guard continued. “Your presence is requested at Orioch.”

“The prison? What business do you have there?” Niall asked.

“Technically it’s a house of interrogation,” Louis answered, barely able to contain his sarcasm, “and I doubt they are seeking my legal counsel.”

“The magistrate has requested that you be brought in for questioning,” the guard insisted again, stepping forward and boxing Louis into a corner.

“Mmm, doesn’t sound like much of a request to me. It sounds more like you are attempting to intimidate and badger me until I give in and come with you.”

“That is my suggestion,” the other one said, leaning down and baring his teeth in what was more of a snarl than a smile.

“Well if that is just your _suggestion_ ,” Louis began, ducking under their hulking forms so that his back was no longer against the wall, “my counter-suggestion is that you shove it straight up your steroid-riddled assholes, because unless you have a warrant for my arrest, there is no way in hell I am leaving this shop with you two glorified guard dogs.”

Niall’s eyes widened – he knew Louis had a sharp tongue, but thought surely he’d have sense enough to bridle it when speaking to those that could easily end his life. Still, he had a point. 

“Excuse me gentlemen, but I believe this man has made his wishes clear.” They turned their murderous stares on Niall and he coughed, as if that would dissolve the knot his intestines were currently forming. “Please only return for his company if and when you have something more compelling than a mere request.”

There were several tense seconds where everyone was certain that someone was about to be murdered, but then with twin snorts of derision the two beastly men stormed right back out – this time, the door did not survive their wrath.

It wasn’t in an omega’s nature to stand up to anyone – they were made to obey and serve – and the outburst left Louis shaking and a little nauseous. Heart pounding, he sat on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Though Niall was a beta, even he could scent the fear and anxiety radiating off of Louis and wrapped himself around his quivering form. Instead of a comforting statement that Louis would surely just find patronizing, Niall said, “Well, I’m pretty sure you’ve got bigger balls than any alpha I’ve ever met.” This got Louis laughing and he loosened up enough to return the embrace. “What do you think the magistrate wants with ya?”

Louis shrugged. He genuinely didn’t know – it could pertain to any number of the illicit activities currently going on in the House of Armand.

Over the next couple weeks, no more muscle-for-hire tried to snatch Louis again, but he did notice that, on occasion, one of the servants of the house would go missing for a few hours at a time. Richard, of course, was unaware of the unexplained absences – not that he would care enough to look into them if he was. They would came back rattled and Louis tried to coax some information out of them – he had always been kind to them, but in the end they still saw him as their master and refused to speak for fear of rebuke.

Well, Louis needn’t have wondered for long. The formal request for his own interrogation came about a month after the first incident. He suspected that the order had actually been written earlier, but that they were waiting to arrest him at the annual costume ball where all the other socialites could bear witness to his embarrassment at being forcibly taken into custody.

Richard had done a decent job of pretending to be shocked and scandalized by the whole thing, but Louis had long ago stopped caring what those hypocrites thought of him. He was more upset that he was stuck endlessly waiting in this small room in a ridiculous and uncomfortable getup of sequins and feathers. He rolled his eyes at his own reflection as he paced back and forth in front of the barred windows – his face was painted in a similarly ornate fashion and he barely recognized the exotic creature staring back at him.

The sky was already beginning to lighten by the time someone finally entered the room. It wasn’t a man Louis recognized, but his neutral scent said beta and the long black robes suggested lawyer – and the derisive scowl screamed prosecutor.

“Why am I here?” Louis asked with forced nonchalance, twirling the end of one of the golden ropes that was tied tightly around his waist to make it appear smaller – an illusion made possible mostly because it forced the air from his lungs and made it impossible to take a deep breath. Did he mention how much he hated being an omega? “I have yet to hear any specific charges.”

There was a long pause, as if waiting long enough would incite Louis to just blurt out a confession. It might have worked if Louis wasn’t already accustomed to being verbally abused on a daily basis. Besides, if Richard had found out about the heat suppressants he probably would have had Louis killed instead of arrested.

When Louis didn’t so much as squirm, the lawyer pressed, “How about we start with theft, bribery, conspiracy, and treason?”

Louis cocked an eyebrow – so this was about Richard’s crimes, then. “I am but a simple omega – what would I know of such things?” Quite a lot, actually, but he couldn’t tell them that. Not yet, anyway.

“Of course you wouldn’t. But someone under your roof has been consorting with some very bad people – if you do not wish to be charged, simply give us the name of the guilty party.”

Oh how easy it was for the other genders to dismiss him so easily. He had half a mind to join in on his husband’s affairs just because no one would ever suspect a pretty little omega to be behind such schemes. “Is this what you’ve been doing with my servants? Stealing them from my house then threatening them for not knowing the details of something going on within your own?”

The lawyer slammed his hands on the table, and Louis suspected he startled himself more than the omega he was supposed to be intimidating. “Are you refusing to give me a name to arrest for these crimes?”

“Are you asking me to do your job for you? The law may be your master, but mine is my Lord Armand.” And a much more cruel and corrupt master he was. “You could bring my husband in to command me to tell you the truth,” he said sweetly – they both knew that Richard would never incriminate himself like that. “Otherwise, you have no evidence with which to charge me.”

“There may be no evidence – yet – but you are a person of interest. And in case you missed the fine print on your arrest warrant, due to the severity of the infractions and potential damage to the safety of the kingdom and the royal family, we have the right to keep you here for questioning.”

Louis scoffed. They’d have to do better than withholding a few meals to get anything out of him. “Do what you must,” he said with a wave of his hand, trying to sound as bored as possible. “The estate can survive without me for a few hours.”

A wicked smile crossed the prosecutor’s face. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. We have the right to keep you here… indefinitely.”

At this, Louis’ bravado faltered. “What?”

“I’m afraid you will be away from your duties for longer than a few hours. It could be months, or even years. Although I suspect they will want someone’s head on a pike long before that.”

“Years?” Louis didn’t even care that he was finally reacting exactly the way that smug bastard wanted him to. “That’s- you can’t… you can’t just—“

“We can. And we are.” He made a show of getting up to leave, then pretended to turn thoughtful. “Unless… well, unless of course you would like to offer up an alternative – a truly guilty party that could take your place in the dungeons of Orioch.”

Louis couldn’t do that. God, did he want to, but… there were people depending on him. Or, more accurately, depending on the money that Richard was contractually obligated to send them. Which he couldn’t continue to do if he was dead.

“What, no smart remark?” 

“Don’t do this.” It wasn’t that Louis was afraid of the dank prison – honestly, he’d lived most of his childhood in much worse conditions. No, it was rather time that he feared. As of right now, he was only guilty of having a terrible mate. But he was due for another round of suppressants in two weeks, and if he missed them – if he finally went into heat for the first time since his bonding to Richard and exposed the fact that he had been actively withholding what was considered Richard’s legal right to an heir… well, there was no future that could end well for him (or his siblings or Niall, for that matter). 

The lawyer walked toward Louis and ran an appreciative finger down the sharp lines of his face. “Pity that something so rare and beautiful turned out to be so broken.”

Revealing just how truly desperate Louis was, he didn’t even try to defend his status as more than just a shiny object to be used and admired. “Please.”

“As much as I like it when you beg, this order comes directly from the king.” He leaned down and inhaled deeply of whatever pheromones Louis was producing. “He doesn’t like it when people use his own money to steal secrets and give them to his enemies. Someone’s head is going to roll.” He trailed a threatening finger in a line across Louis’ neck and then gestured for the guards to escort him down to the cells.

***

The king sat calmly behind his desk while his son paced holes in the obscenely expensive rug adorning the floor.

“This is wrong, father,” Harry said, coming to a stop in front of the royal. “An innocent omega is rotting away in the dungeons below our feet.” Everyone knew Richard Armand was guilty, and the fact that his mate had been arrested instead was entirely unreasonable.

“Forgive me if I do not defer to your judgment on character – you have lived a sheltered life, my boy.”

Harry bristled, pausing in his stride. “I have lived in more places than most even know exist.”

“Exactly – always moving between lands to avoid hardship.” The king pointed his heavily bejeweled finger, “You would not be so optimistic if you’d grown up in Turroch during the famine.”

Although Harry had read about his kingdom’s blight – the years of drought and freezing winters during which many less fortunate families either starved or became indefinitely indebted to the wealthy nobles – he only understood it from a legislative perspective. The redistribution of land ownership, the dip in taxes collected, the rise of unrest and violent crime. He had been away from his kingdom so often and for so long that he could walk freely in the streets because no one recognized him as their prince.

“House Armand has lied, cheated, and stolen its way into power, and the omega is either involved in the plot to deplete my treasury and destabilize my kingdom,” the king continued, “or he knows who is.”

“He?” Male omegas were very uncommon. Most alphas could not even afford their dowries, so having one with your family’s crest on their arm was quite the status symbol.

“Crass little thing, so I’m told. Stubborn. But he will break.”

Harry cringed at his father’s callous tone. All alphas were taught from a young age to cherish and protect the omegas under their care, and to think of intentionally harming one caused his skin to crawl. “There has to be another way.”

“Oh? Does the young prince have a suggestion?” His tone was mocking, but he was genuinely curious. His son would inherit the throne one day and it would be nice to know that the kingdom would be left in good hands.

“Let me speak to him.” His father raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask ‘ _is that it?_ ’. “I’m sure he didn’t appreciate being publicly humiliated during his arrest and then locked up for crimes he didn’t commit. Perhaps instead of trying to force his submission, I could earn his trust.”

The king scoffed. “And how do you propose to do that? If he is this belligerent to my betas, what makes you think he would yield to an alpha to whom he didn’t belong?”

Harry held his tongue on his father’s choice of phrase – many alphas were of the opinion that the other genders were inferior and should be subservient to their rule. Harry, who adored his omega mother more than almost anyone else in the kingdom, was not one of them. “There are ways to… obscure the fact that I’m an alpha.”

His father looked perplexed for a moment, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You propose to debase yourself with scent blockers?”

“If I don’t appear to be a threat to him, he won’t feel the need to be defensive.”

The king sighed in resignation. If this omega was any bit as strong-willed as his own wife, he would likely not give in so easily. One day his son would learn that he cannot save everyone, that victory demands sacrifice. But he also hoped that today was not that day. “If you wish to lower yourself as such, so be it.”

“Thank you.” Harry knew he’d lost a few points with his father for the idea, but he had to try. Plus, a not insignificant part of him was intensely curious to be up close and personal with an actual male omega. “But first… I’m going to need you to punch me.”

***

Though it was difficult to keep track of time when there were no windows or people or distractions of any kind, Louis guessed that he had only been stuck in this cell for a few hours.

And it was already driving him mad.

It was a fairly large cell, but he’d already counted all the cracks in the wall and built a tiny house of sticks and leaves for the cockroaches scurrying across the floor. And, though Richard would be furious, he’d even started plucking the beads and plumage from his very expensive costume to decorate the dark, bland interior just to pass the time. If something didn’t change soon, he may very well have ended up stark naked for lack of things to do.

“Open,” someone commanded from outside Louis’ cell. He had just enough time to move to the side before a large, gangly body was tossed into the room with him, the heavy door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

The man on the floor groaned and rolled onto his side, revealing a mess of curls that framed a face that was still handsome despite the swollen black and blue skin of its left side. Louis should have been cautious of this new presence, but on more than one occasion he had survived solely by relying on the kindness and care of strangers. In turn, he’d learned to help first and ask questions later.

“Alright, you’re alright,” Louis soothed, kneeling down and taking the man’s face in his hands, turning it gently from side to side to assess the damage. His hands wandered down the hard muscles of his body, pressing in at various points to test for pain or sensitivity. Aside from some extreme ticklishness around his ribs, Louis found the new prisoner to be mostly unharmed. “A split lip and a black eye, but nothing ice and a little time won’t heal.”

Louis tore off one of the dangling strips of fabric on his right thigh. He soaked the material in the steady stream of water trickling down the back wall, wrapped it around one of the wider, thinner rocks on the ground, and held it out to his new cellmate.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Just lay this against your face for a bit – and pick up a new rock if this one starts to warm up.” It wasn’t an ideal medical solution, but it would help bring down the swelling.

“Thanks.” Harry gazed at the odd creature sitting on the floor beside him. He was all done up in what others might have considered a curious display of wealth and luxury, but Harry was more intrigued by the man underneath.

He waited, not wanting to speak first, but at some point the sun must have set because the small underground room dropped a considerable number of degrees. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it seemed preferable to suffering consciously through the cold night. Harry had more meat on his bones, but his body was unaccustomed to weathering such extreme temperatures and he began shivering violently.

Louis heard the man’s teeth chattering, saw as his muscles jerked and spasmed. Everything in Louis’ head reasoned that he owed nothing to his fellow prisoner – that he was a criminal that, Louis had discerned from the state of his hands and teeth and hair, had probably lived a very comfortable life up until now.

Perhaps it was the omega instinct in him to nurture and care for others, or perhaps he was no better than an alpha in that he was a sucker for a pretty face, but it wasn’t long before Louis was on his feet and working to alleviate further suffering.

Louis tore off one of his pant legs and tied off the end. He plucked out every godforsaken feather from his headpiece and stuffed them into the makeshift bag to create a sort of down pillow. Then he shrugged out of his similarly adorned cape and laid it on the ground, feather side up. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable, but combined, they would prevent the cold stone floor from leeching away the heat from the man’s injured head and body.

He was surprisingly heavy, but Louis managed to roll him almost a full turn until his body naturally curled up to fit the small square of relative warmth. It wasn’t long before his body stilled and his breathing evened out.

Louis plopped himself down on the floor a safe distance from the stranger and frowned down at the little protection with which he’d been left to withstand the elements – a sleeveless silk shirt and half a pair of pants.

It was going to be a long night.

Harry awoke stiff, but not freezing, as he had been falling asleep. His eyes landed on the familiar plumage that had somehow become his makeshift bed and immediately sought out the omega. Huddled half-naked in the center of the room, he was sitting up but curled tightly into a ball, arms wrapped around his legs and head tucked between bent knees.

Harry made a move towards him and hissed at the temperature of the ground – it was like crawling across ice. He set a large hand on the omega’s exposed arm, and found the temperature of his skin to be dangerously similar to the rock under his knees.

“Hey.” Harry shook his shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?” He attempted to pull harder, to unfurl the knot that the omega had tied himself into, but was met with resistance.

“If you pull me from this position, my vital organs will cease to function and then you will have to add murder to whatever the hell list of crimes they’ve charged you with,” he mumbled testily from between the small gap in his legs.

Harry pulled his hand back, and the omega whimpered from the loss of contact – the loss of _heat_. “Why did you do that? Why did- you could have died.”

“Still could – but not from this.” Louis had lived through many winters in a shoddy, unheated shack – at least here he didn’t have to also go out in the snow to hunt for his dinner. “If anything does me in, it’ll be another torture session thinly disguised as the incessant badgering by mister small, rude, and creepy upstairs.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up in the beginnings of a smile – he was fairly certain the omega was referring to Mr. Caldera, one of his father’s most prolific and also most insufferable lawyers. In which case… he would not be wrong. “The garment is yours – you should reap its benefits,” Harry insisted.

Louis swallowed thickly – as much as he resented the outfit, right now it sounded downright heavenly. Still, he shook his head. “You need it more.”

They both knew that was true, but Harry was fascinated. Other than his mother, he had not grown up around any omegas. Everything he knew he’d learned from books or his father or his attendants. And those sources had taught him that omegas were supposed to be weak. Not in a negative way, exactly – just that they were soft, fragile creatures that valued their comfort and relied upon others to provide for their needs.

But this one… this omega had shown strength and sacrifice. He had been selfless and kind, and it had Harry wondering whether all of his gender were this way or whether this one was unique in more than just his sex. Regardless, Harry had never been more certain that the man was innocent. He just needed to prove it.

If, that was, he could survive the night.

“Combined body heat is the best way to stay warm.”

“What?” Louis squeaked, poking his head up for half a second and then immediately regretting the decision when his ears instantly froze.

Harry had heard that he was stubborn, so instead of arguing he simply picked up the omega’s small body and carried it back to the patch of feathered floor with him. He molded his body around his compact form and was met with a contented sigh.

Though he’d been exposed to the heady scent through his garments and proximity, having the omega right under his nose was doing odd things to Harry’s brain. The bond dampened his attractiveness to other alphas, and for once Harry was grateful for the traitorous snake of a man to whom this one had the misfortune of being married – otherwise, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to control the innate need to claim him.

“M’Louis, by the way,” the omega in his arms muttered sleepily. He rolled his head back against Harry’s shoulder and cracked an eye open to look up at him. “Hi.”

Harry gazed down into blue eyes so bright they shone even in this darkness and smiled. “Edward. Nice to meet you.”


	2. Worth Dying For

Edward was… pleasant company, Louis decided. At least in that he was better than no company. Omegas were social creatures, after all, and happiest when surrounded with friends or family or children. Unfortunately, Louis only ever socialized with either other insufferable nobles or his staff, and neither quite fulfilled that longing to be part of a pack.

They were both carted off at various times during the day for further questioning, and the times when Louis was left by himself were definitively worse. Alone, he had the time to imagine all the worst case scenarios. He could be hanged. He could go into heat and then, after discovering he’d been on suppressants, be hanged. He could lose his shit and murder the annoying lawyer that kept trying to get him to turn on Richard… and then be hanged.

Having Edward around, at least, presented a distraction from the anticipatory ache in Louis’ neck. That is, until he inevitably started wanting to _get to know_ Louis. He was used to people being intrigued by him; they expected him to be some sort of enigmatic siren calling unsuspecting alphas to their willing demise with his ass or something.

They were always disappointed.

“So, what is the rare male omega like when he’s not imprisoned,” he mused. “Does he play the harp? Read to the blind? Knit?”

Louis sighed inwardly. “No.”

“No to what?”

“No, we’re not doing this.” Louis scooted as far away from Edward as he could in the relatively small space.

Harry was surprised at Louis’ reluctance – most of the royals and politicians he fraternized with seemed to love hearing themselves talk. “Doing what? I’m simply curious about the person I’ve been sleeping with for the past three nights.”

The joke landed flat and Louis narrowed his eyes, studying Edward more closely. “Did the court plant you in here?”

Harry’s stomach flipped – he couldn’t possibly be on to him that quickly. Perhaps he was not as smooth and eloquent as the eligible socialites he’d met abroad had led him to believe. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I am in literal prison and cannot possibly _still_ be expected to exchange banal small talk and empty flatteries. Honestly, is this a new form of torture? I didn’t think Caldera had it in him to be this creative.”

Harry laughed, both relieved and amused. “I’ll be sure to add ‘proficient in torment’ to my resume.” When Louis still didn’t answer his question, Harry prompted, “But you really are something of a mystery.”

Louis frowned and focused his attention on drawing circles in the dirt on the floor with a small rock. “I do not match the expectations that have been placed on me – that’s not the same thing.” He paused, waiting for Edward to rebuke or correct him; when he stayed silent Louis added, “I am what I am; you see what you want to see.”

Harry’s heart twisted and a knot formed in his throat. Louis had just put into words something Harry had never named but always felt – from his father, his mentors, his people. They all wanted him to be everything all at once and it was impossible. They wanted justice and mercy; strength and empathy; fearlessness and security. Everyone had an opinion on how he should speak and act and rule, and he was actually self-centered enough to not realize that someone like Louis might feel just as trapped in the box other people put him in.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out oddly strained and he wasn’t surprised that Louis’ eyes once again found his. “I’m sorry that people have told you that you are valuable only because of what you are and not because of who you are. And I am sorry if you have ever believed them.”

A shiver ran down Louis’ spine and it had little to do with the cold of the cell. He resumed tracing geometric patterns on the floor with his rudimentary instrument. About 20 spirals later he said quietly, “Piano.”

“What?”

Louis looked up at him with glassy eyes and offered the barest hint of a smile. “I like to play the piano.”

***

On the sixth day of his imprisonment, Louis got a visitor. Unfortunately, that visitor was the man that was supposed to be rotting away in this prison in his place.

“How worried my frantic husband must have been – to come check on me a mere week after my arrest!” Louis crooned, reaching a pleading hand through the bars of the cell door. Richard whacked Louis’ knuckles with his heavily ringed hand and Louis pulled his hand back into the cell, subtly flexing and stretching his fingers against the bruises that were sure to form.

“Ungrateful little shit; shoulda sold you back when you were actually worth something. You haven’t opened your big trap, have you?” Richard asked, picking up the lower half of his cape and draping it over his arm to avoid having it drag along the filthy stone floor.

“Pretty sure they wouldn’t keep me in here if they had what they wanted from me.”

Richard nodded to himself. “Good. My business is my business, and they got no business sticking their noses in it.”

Louis almost rolled his eyes, but thought better of intentionally patronizing the only one who could possibly get him released from this cell. “Agreed. Now please, are you going to convince them to release me?” He didn’t really care how at this point, and Richard could find a way to bribe, blackmail, or bully his way to pretty much anything.

Richard pretended to mull it over for a moment, the alpha rather enjoying his bondmate’s supplicating tone even if it wasn’t entirely sincere. “I don’t know. Maybe spending a few months here will do you some good – remind you of your place.”

Louis widened his eyes and blinked up at him and added an innocent, pleading, omega-in-distress gaze to his appeal. “My _place_ is by your side, Richard. I have become accustomed to the comfortable and lavish life you have so graciously provided for me; I simply don’t know how long I can survive in a place like this.”

While the one-two punch of stroking Richard’s ego while appearing like a helpless wilting flower might have worked on most alphas, he knew Louis too well to be fooled by the act. “You’ve survived worse.”

Louis had assumed Richard would relish the leverage he now had over Louis’ situation, but had he really forgotten how very precarious his own legal disposition was? As it became clear that Richard truly was considering letting Louis take the fall – at least for long enough that Louis’ own secrets would be revealed – he decided that the only card left to play was one of mutual destruction. His eyes narrowed, voice lowering to an icy whisper. “You have three days to get me the hell out of here, or I swear I will tell them where every goddamn body is buried.”

Although his big, meaty arm could barely fit between the bars, Richard managed to thrust his fist through and close his fingers tightly around Louis’ throat. Even as an overweight, lazy alpha, he was still able to fully lift Louis off the ground, leaving him choking while his feet dangled helplessly in the air.

“Or I could just end your pathetic life right here and make all my troubles go away,” Richard sneered. Louis kicked and clawed at the hand around his neck, but panic and oxygen deprivation made his movements jerky and ineffective. “No one would even know.”

Harry had been observing the exchange from the far corner of the room, but got up as soon as Louis’ feet left the floor. “I would,” he said with uncharacteristic malice, grabbing Richard’s wrist with one hand and using the other to slam into his forearm with enough force to crack bone.

Richard squealed like the pig he resembled and released his hold on Louis, withdrawing his arm a safe distance from the door. “Fuck! What the fuck did—you broke my arm. You broke my fucking arm you fucking degenerate! You’re gonna pay for that. You are dead. Both of you, you’re fucking dead!” The threats would have sounded more intimidating if he hadn’t been whimpering and backing slowly into the stairwell and up toward the exit.

Louis had fallen to his knees coughing and gasping for air. Tears involuntarily sprang to his eyes as his lungs sputtered back to life and his whole body trembled with the aftershocks of adrenaline and fear. It was generally frowned upon for an unbounded alpha to lay his hands on a bonded omega, but Harry could not stop himself from placing a comforting hand to the small of Louis’ back.

Amidst the burning in Louis’ lungs, he began to feel a different kind of warmth spreading through him at Edward’s touch. Different, even, than the fires of lust and longing, it felt like safety – like home – and suddenly Louis began to understand why Niall always looked at Emma the way he did.

But he could not allow himself to mourn for a life and a love that might have been.

It would destroy him.

“So, that was Richard,” Louis rasped out with a bitter laugh that sent him into another coughing fit. “Was he as I described?”

Over the last several days they had often fallen into moments of deeper contemplation and reflection, but Harry had also spent a fair amount of time complaining about his father while Louis bitched about his husband. He’d called Richard cruel, heartless, violent… but Harry’s father had been called those things too. And maybe – as a king, as a judge, as a conqueror – he could be; but as a husband, Desmond Styles treated Anne with the love and respect of the queen she was.

“It shouldn’t be this way.” Harry could still feel and hear the slight wheezing sound whenever Louis took in air, but at least he was breathing at a normal pace again. “Why do you continue to protect him?”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Louis said quietly instead of answering the question posed to him.

“He was going to kill you.”

Louis sat back on his heels and looked up into eyes that were a green he never thought he’d see again outside the forests of his hometown. Louis’ expression was one of sadness and regret – a look that so often adorned his face, he was certain it would be etched permanently in wrinkles on his skin. “And now he’s going to kill you.”

The omega had been moments from death, and he was concerned about Harry’s safety? “He can’t hurt me.”

“Anyone can hurt anyone if they know what’s most important to you.”

“Is that what he’s doing to you?” Harry guessed. “Why you’re in here and he’s out there?”

“He’ll come back for me,” he said instead of answering the question. Since Richard had not succeeded in eliminating him, Louis hoped that his threat would still land.

“What, so he can finish the job?” Harry asked incredulously – how could Louis possibly trust that man with his future? “Do you really value your place in his house so dearly? Because he’s not treating you like a bondmate, he’s treating you like some disposable plaything.”

Louis couldn’t care less about his status, but Edward was asking him about how he wanted to be treated like he had a choice. He’d never had a fucking choice. “Is that not what I am? Just a bunch of holes for an alpha to fuck?”

“That’s not—“

“Unbonded, bonded, it doesn’t matter – omegas are all just whores to them! The only difference is whether we’ve sold our bodies to many alphas or just one.”

Harry bristled at Louis’ grim depiction of his gender. Yes, alphas could be aggressive and stubborn and possessive, but they could also be fiercely protective and passionate and loving. Plus, he did not particularly appreciate being lumped into any category that also contained the likes of Richard.

“You could always turn him in – then he’d get what’s coming to him,” Harry suggested casually. “You obviously know more than you let on.”

Louis studied his cellmate more closely, waffling between being suspicious at his observation and flattered that he believed Louis actually knew a goddamn thing or two. “Seems everyone here knows more than they say.”

“You live with the man,” Harry pressed. “Surely you’ve seen who he does business with or heard where he’s traveled?”

Suspicious. Louis was definitely leaning on the side of suspicious. “Why do you care so much about whether or not my husband goes to prison?”

“I don’t,” Harry replied a little too quickly. He bowed his head and inhaled deeply of the omega’s naturally sweet and tangy scent before admitting, “But I do care about whether or not you go free.”

***

“Father, he didn’t _do_ it,” Harry pleaded with the king during one of his supposed ‘interrogations’.

“How can you be so certain? You have been down in that disgusting cell for over a week now; has he provided you with anything of value? Names, dates, locations?” Harry didn’t answer – they both knew that if Harry had any actionable information, he would have provided it by now. “Did you ever think that perhaps that is because he is, in fact, guilty?”

“No.” Harry almost wished his father could have been there to witness the exchange between Louis and Richard – then the king would have been just as certain as Harry was. “He’s loyal to Richard not because he is complicit, but because he is reliant upon him. Perhaps if gender rights were regulated by actual law instead of tradition, he would be more forthcoming.”

The king sighed; the prince was starting to sound a little too much like his outspoken daughter, letting emotion rather than rationality guide his thinking. “Your judgment has been compromised – you have become enamored with the omega.”

Harry didn’t deny the claim, but it was not the sole reason he was defending Louis. “You have no reason to keep him here – he will not turn on his alpha, and he would not betray his country.”

Their gazes never wavered as they sized each other up, trying to determine whose will, whose conviction was stronger. The barest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of the king’s mouth before he looked down to adjust one of the rings on his left hand. “The problem is, my son, that both of those things cannot be true. If Richard Armand is guilty, as you seem so certain he is, then any citizen loyal to the kingdom would be cooperating with our investigation. Otherwise, if he remains loyal to his bondmate, then that makes him our enemy.”

Harry was once again in awe of how his father managed to make a definitively gray area sound so black and white. “What are you—“

“The omega is guilty. He has given us nothing but silence or outright opposition, and Richard has been so kind as to provide a reason why – evidence of his bondmate’s crimes.”

Harry was gobsmacked. Was his father, the lawyers, the whole goddamn judicial system honestly accepting the word of the man who, up until a week ago, they had all believed to be a traitor? “And you say _my_ judgment has been compromised?”

“Word of his arrest is now ubiquitous. If a swift and harsh punishment is not administered, we will appear weak and ineffective; without consequences, others will seek to follow in his footsteps.”

Harry was still trying to wrap his head around this rapid turn of events. “And what good is punishment if it’s not just? Have you even had whatever documents that snake has provided verified for their legitimacy?”

The king stood and loomed in a way that would be threatening to anyone that was not his own flesh and blood. “My actions are never without reason, even if you are too blinded by emotion to see it. Due diligence has been done; the omega will be executed tomorrow at sundown.”

The king sat back down and went back to reading over and signing several of the papers strewn across his desk – a signal that the matter was closed for discussion. Harry knew that his father was currently a little twitchy with the rumors of betrayal and even mutiny spreading throughout the palace, but this was a bit rash even for him. Perhaps there was something more going on that he was not privy to – not an uncommon occurrence – but he refused to sacrifice the life of an innocent for whatever political games were being played.

***

Though it had been a long time since he’d allowed his body to go into heat, and though he still had a few days before anyone else would be able to detect the signs, Louis could almost feel his temperature rising – a scorching heat that started on the skin and sank deeper into his bones and would eventually swirl in his belly. An omega in heat was a powerful thing – the sweet scent of arousal called to any alphas within a hundred meters. Even the most disciplined alphas would be all too tempted to find an omega in desperate, whining need trapped in a cage and begging for release. Though Louis was mated – and therefore could not get pregnant by anyone other than his bondmate – he was not certain his ass would survive such a trial.

Louis had just begun to formulate a plan to get a message to Niall to get him to sneak in the necessary medication when the cell door swung wide.

“Edward?” Louis asked, perplexed. He had come in alone – as in, without having to be dragged in by guards – and looked like he’d recently bathed. “Have you been released?”

“You have to give them something to arrest Richard. You have to give him up.”

“What are you- what?”

Harry closed the distance between them and gripped Louis’ biceps tightly. “We’ve run out of time. Tell me what you know, or you _will_ pay the price for it.” He really didn’t want to have to tell Louis about the axe poised over his head, but he could see the omega beginning to dig his heels in.

“What do you mean ‘we’? What have you got to do with any of this?” There had always been something off about Edward. Prison was designed to isolate, to amplify fear and loneliness until confession seemed like the better option. But Edward had never shown any signs of that fear, that anxiety of knowing someone else controlled your fate. No, he had always carried a confident ease, like he could just get up and walk out at any time. Maybe that was because he could. “You were never a prisoner,” Louis guessed.

“I—“

“I should have realized- fuck, I should have seen it right away.” It was even in the way he held himself with some innate sense of importance and entitlement, or how he spoke like he had the moral high ground even when he was the one behind bars. Louis really should have known better. “Who are you?”

“Right now, I am the only person who is advocating on your behalf.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but he hoped Louis would take that to mean that he was a lawyer working on his defense. Luckily, Harry was still on the scent blockers – alphas were not allowed to be lawyers, as they tended to, either intentionally or unintentionally, sway juries and intimidate witnesses when they were passionate about a case.

Louis snorted, putting on the persona of the slighted noble bondmate. “My husband—“

“Is the one who provided the information that has led to your conviction,” Harry finished for him. He expected the omega to be shocked or outraged, but it was worse that he seemed resigned, like he might have anticipated this move. “But you can still save yourself.”

It was the same choice Louis had had to make many times before, and this time would be no different. He straightened up to his full height and tilted his chin up in defiance. “If you are expecting me to turn over evidence against my… mate,” he still couldn’t quite say the word without some reluctance, “then I will spare you the energy. It is not going to happen.”

“Even for a mate that has been unfaithful you?” Harry had been allowed to study the case files during his time outside the cell, and this particular indecency had been widely documented. His father had thought the affairs distasteful – not because Richard had bedded another, but rather because he had not divorced the omega first, as barrenness was one of the few acceptable reasons for premature bond-breaking and Louis had failed to produce an heir.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true. They have—“

“No, I know the cheating part is true – he didn’t even wait for the sheets to cool in our wedding bed before scampering off to another.” Louis’ dismissive attitude toward the news seemed to catch him off guard. “What’s bullshit is you pretending to actually give a shit about my marriage when really you’re just trying to skew my loyalty in a direction that favors your own ends.”

“Louis, please.” The prince was not used to begging to get what he wanted, but he found himself bending down to lock eyes with Louis. “They’re going to kill you.” 

Louis broke first, jerking his head to the side and studying the dank wall as if it were a piece of modern art. “As much as I hate it – him – I need Richard to provide for my family what I could not.” Their contract was clear – if Louis died, no matter the circumstances, Richard would have to continue providing financial assistance to each of his siblings until they came of age. And with how closely Richard’s transactions would likely be monitored over the next few years after this incident, he was reasonably certain that contract would be honored. “Ask me again in two years.”

“You don’t even have two days.”

“W-what?” For the first time since being arrested, Louis’ practiced bravado wavered and genuine fear began to take root.

“You have been sentenced to hang tomorrow.”

“But- they can’t… I haven’t even had a trial!” Of course, neither had his mother when they’d dragged her off to be executed. But of course the word of an alpha – even one like Richard – would hold more sway. The realization that death was looming made him numb; if he was lucky, that feeling would never go away and at least allow him to die with dignity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. It matters. The truth matters.” And, if he was being honest with himself, “You matter.” When he looked at Louis he saw everything he himself could never be – humble and righteous and altruistic and imperious in the most frustratingly admirable way. Louis may not think the world would notice his loss, but it would certainly _feel_ it. And so would Harry. “You matter to me.”

The weight of Edward’s intense gaze nearly crushed Louis’ resolve. It was like a physical touch that was somehow both a soft caress and a swift kick in the ass. Someone he’d known such a short time was making him seriously consider giving up the ones he’d known his whole life, and what was once defiant resolve was now an uncertain whisper. “I can’t.”

Harry seethed quietly for a moment – enraged on behalf of both himself and the foolish omega. “You know, for someone always claiming to be a victim of his circumstances, you sure aren’t doing a whole hell of a lot to change them.”

Alright, that stung a little. “And you sure seem to lie a lot for someone claiming to seek the truth.”

Harry clenched his teeth to keep from yelling at the person who was about to wrongfully die – Louis looked more sad than angry, like he truly believed he had no other choice. “Can you at least tell me why? What is so important to you that it’s worth dying over?”

“Family means everything to me,” he started to explain, before Edward snapped.

“Richard is not your family. Fuck! I don’t know what he’s done to make you think he is, but families don’t do this to each other.”

Of course Louis knew that, but Richard was not the one he was protecting. And in that moment Louis wanted nothing more than to just tell him everything, to get that look of ire and disappointment and exasperation off his face. But honestly, it wouldn’t change anything. So maybe it would be easier this way, to let Edward stay angry at him. 

Still, it was more painful than expected when Edward said, “If you don’t even want to bother fighting for your life, why should anyone else?” and proceeded to trudge out of the cell.


	3. Worth Living For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit if a smut warning :)

Hours had passed since Edward had gone, and Louis hated how much lonelier he felt. The man had lied to him – could still be lying to him, for all he knew. Everyone was always lying to Louis to get what they wanted. Perhaps trying to convince him that he would soon be hanged was just yet another tactic to try and turn him against Richard.

But they would find that Louis could be as strong-willed as any alpha.

It wasn’t until Louis was pulled out of his cell that evening and into the courtroom to officially be sentenced that the reality began to set in – this was not another ploy. He could barely listen as they read off all the charges, and instead focused his attention on the faces in the room; there didn’t seem to be anyone to speak on his behalf, so, like he’d always done, Louis would just have to speak for himself.

On the prosecution side was Richard, the sling around his arm disguised under an embellished cloak and a smug smile defying the laws of gravity on his heavy face. His current mistress was there by his side as well, but no one else seemed bothered that Louis’ bondmate had seemingly moved on already.

The lawyer that had been in charge of interrogating Louis – Caldera – was over there as well. He looked more grim and sour than Louis would have expected for someone who was about to win, but being in close proximity to Richard did tend to have that effect on people. He kept glancing over at three imperious-looking men observing the proceedings from the shadows on the far side of the room. One of them nodded, and Louis could have sworn he saw Caldera’s frown deepen even as he handed over Richard’s ‘evidence’ to the judge.

The judge.

Louis was so focused on his accusers that he hadn’t even glanced at the one who would actually decide his fate. When he did, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

He was fucked.

Wholly and irreparably fucked.

Because the face staring back at Louis was the latest that had been added to his sketchbook – easily distinguished by his enormous bat ears and the perpetually tomato-like tint to his skin. Just a week before Louis’ arrest, Richard had sent him off on some frivolous errand to buy more garlic. Instead of going all the way into town for an item they already had in abundance in the root cellar, Louis hid himself among the staff in the kitchen. But the meeting was brief and he never found out what they had been discussing.

Mystery solved.

Louis had been able to hold his head high thus far because… well, he was innocent. And that should have counted for something.

But now Louis had the kingdom’s best lawyer, the judge, and his own bondmate against him. Why did they even bother with this mockery of a trial?

When the judge finally came to the end of the list, he looked up at Louis with an almost bored expression. “Is there anyone to speak in your defense?”

Some small part of Louis had hoped that Edward would dramatically burst into the courtroom with exonerating evidence. Although given the circumstances, he couldn’t imagine that anything could sway the decision when the judge’s verdict had already been paid for.

“I would never betray my kingdom,” Louis said with as much arrogance as he could muster under the circumstances. “I have done nothing wrong.” Except, perhaps, marry a heartless, traitorous bastard. 

“So you claim to have no knowledge of the documents your mate has presented against you?” the judge asked.

Louis couldn’t honestly say that he didn’t know about any of the documents’ existence – he had been keeping his own private records of Richard’s activities for years now – so he sidestepped the question. “Most omegas are barely educated enough to even read and write, much less have permission to authorize the financial transactions detailed in those documents.”

“So you deny that this is your signature?” The judge held up one of the papers on his desk.

Louis squinted at the messy script – it certainly looked like his handwriting, but he had never seen that particular document in his life. “I didn’t sign that,” he said, again answering a question that had not been asked.

“We have compared it to the personal journals of yours, also provided by Lord Armand, and found the script to be a match.”

Of course it was a match – that was probably where Richard had learned to copy it in the first place. “If you have already made up your mind about my fate,” Louis said through gritted teeth, “then may I suggest that we go ahead and end this charade so I need not spend the last few hours of my life being forced to listen to your fictitious corrupt bullshit?”

Immediately, Louis was backhanded hard enough to land him on the floor and his mouth flooded with the coppery taste of his own blood. There was the sound of the gavel slamming down and people shouting and Richard laughing, but the guard that had punished Louis for his insubordination must have rattled his brain because he was dizzy and had to be dragged back out of the courtroom and before he knew it, before he could even think to put up a fight, he was back where he’d started.

“Some trial,” Louis muttered, glaring defiantly at the closed door of his cell until the sounds in the hall faded away before slumping down in defeat. It was over now. He almost wished they would have just done it right then and there, but they probably enjoyed the buildup of anxiety as their prisoners simply sat around waiting to die.

He told himself to be strong. 

He had known this was a possibility – a likelihood, even – and that it was for the best. Almost everything he’d ever done had been for his family, and his death would be no different. 

But as the hours ticked by, both painfully slowly and far too quickly, and the terror began constricting his heart and settling in his bones, Louis had to continually remind himself of this fact.

In moments of forgetfulness, though, his body took to expressing the emotions that his mind refused to process. He hated the tears that were streaming unbidden down his face, the soft and pathetic whimpers his throat was producing on its own, but he couldn’t stop them. He sat on the floor, pulling his legs in tight and curling around himself in an attempt to provide himself the comfort that no one else ever had and feeling every bit the weak and helpless omega people always expected him to be. 

He had his back to the door, but heard when it swung open and someone walked into the room. 

Great. Someone to bear witness to his weakness and despair.

Now without even his dignity left, Louis buried his head between his knees and cried even harder.

Harry sat by Louis’ side, hip-to-hip facing the opposite direction. He wanted to still be mad at the omega for his pointless obstinacy, but his anguished cries caused an ache inside Harry’s chest that called forth a deeply rooted instinct to console and protect. He coaxed Louis’ face up to look at him and saw the unnatural redness of his cheek, the small trickle of blood carelessly smeared away from under his nose.

The brightness in Louis’ eyes was gone – that icy spark of mischief and amusement replaced by something darker, a heavy blue that hinted at gathering storms and unknown ocean depths. 

Harry had never been all that good with words, and instead hoped his touch would convey what his voice could not. He reached out to brush his fingertips along Louis’ jaw – _I see you_. His thumb gingerly swiped at the crimson stain on his cheek – _you deserve better._ He molded his fingers around Louis’ neck and teased at the hair at the base of his scalp – _I’m here for you_.

Louis bit back another sob. Edward was practically a stranger; had lied to him and given him false hope and abandoned him when he needed him most. But that one gesture held more intimacy, more care and concern than Louis’ mate had ever shown him.

Harry felt Louis lean into the warmth of his palm, his eyes fluttering shut as more tears leaked out and washed more of the blood from his face – violence cleansed by sorrow. He pivoted slightly, sliding one leg beneath Louis’ bent knees so he could pull the omega into his lap, hold him against his chest.

Tired of being strong for once, Louis allowed himself to submit to the comfort of another’s embrace. “They found me guilty.” Edward had already basically told him as much, but Louis felt him nod anyway. “You know I didn’t do it, right?” For some reason, it was important to Louis that Edward believed him. “I didn’t do it, but I couldn’t let them hang Richard yet.”

Harry wasn’t going to bother attempting to pull that thread any further, but a single word caught his attention – yet. “Why not yet?” Louis shifted in his grasp and began tracing the wrinkle patterns in Harry’s silk shirt with his fingertips. His stomach clenched involuntarily beneath the delicate touch and he curled his fingers deeper into Louis’ hair just to give them something to do. “What has he done to compel such loyalty?”

“He married the widowed son of an unbonded omega,” Louis said matter-of-factly. “He saved my family.”

“ _You_ saved your family,” Harry corrected. He had looked extensively into Louis’ past – he had been married at 13 to a much older alpha who died when he was 16, then married again to Richard shortly after he turned 18, and it was obvious that those arrangements were not borne out of affection. “You were so young.”

Louis shrugged. “Mother was gone and I was the oldest of seven. The only thing of value I had was my body, but I was already damaged goods by the time I was a proper adult. He may be a bastard, but Richard was the only one willing to both overlook my past and provide for my siblings until they came of age.”

Harry turned over Louis’ words in his mind as he thought back over all the documentation he’d read through about this case. He vaguely remembered reading that little clause in their marriage contract, but the financial records didn’t line up. “Louis, I’ve basically memorized your financial transactions over the last couple weeks. Richard hasn’t sent money to anyone in your family for almost a year now.”

“What?” Louis pulled out of his grasp to stare up into a pair of deeply apologetic eyes. “But they- they’re too young.” For a moment he was too worried about his sisters’ fates to fear for his own. “He _has_ to.”

“He was only obligated to continue financial support until they were either legally adults or married, and the youngest was wed last July.”

“She was only 15,” Louis whispered, voice caught in his throat.

“I thought you knew. All six wedding invitations were on record, signed off by Richard as evidence to discontinue the payments.” Something like a whine escaped Louis’ throat and Harry fought the alpha instinct to wrap him up in his arms again. “I assure you they are all well cared for. From what I could tell, the marriages were ones of love, not convenience. Their lives are modest, but comfortable.”

It all made sense then. Why everything was coming to light now. Richard could kill two birds with one stone – get rid of his sterile pain-in-the-ass husband while also casting off the legal suspicions that had surrounded him for years. Louis was almost impressed that Richard could be bothered to come up with such an elaborate scheme. “He’s been planning this for months.”

Harry bit his lip, uncertain how much he should reveal when Louis was already so devastated. “I think it’s been longer than that.” At Louis’ questioning look, he continued. “I think he’s been putting your name on every piece of potentially incriminating evidence since the day you got married.”

Louis’ mind flashed back to the courtroom – to the large stack of documents handed over to the judge as supposed evidence of his guilt.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. People had been using him since he was a child, too young to even realize it was happening. So when a rich nobleman offered to brand him with his family crest, to take him into his household despite the sideways glances and hushed remarks, to send money to half a dozen orphaned betas that were not his blood-borne obligation, he really should have known it was too good to be true.

He should have known… but still if felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. Like the last stitch in a ripped and frayed tapestry had snapped and what once held beauty and meaning and life would soon be reduced to a tangle of threads.

“It’s not too late to tell me what you know.” Harry had thought that revealing the news about his sisters would finally break Louis’ resolve, but instead it just seemed to break him. “We can still fight this.”

Louis didn’t want to fight.

He’d been beaten and patronized and falsely accused and now he was overwhelmed with the agony of knowing it was all for nothing. 

He didn’t know his heart could hurt this much – he’d lost his autonomy, his dignity, his hope, his future; everything that made his pitiable life bearable. And finally they had stripped him of the one thing he’d had left – the nobility in his sacrifice – and now more than anything he was just done with it all. “Leave me be, Edward.”

Harry took firm hold of Louis’ petite shoulders as if he could physically shake some sense into him. “Why do I feel like I’m the only one in this entire kingdom who cares whether you live or die?”

Louis studied the perfectly symmetrical features of his face, currently furrowed into a beautiful portrayal of concern and the slightest tinge of anger. “Maybe because you are. Why is that, by the way?” Edward dragged a hand through his mess of curls and Louis had the odd impulse to reach out and do the same. “The thought is a kind one, but you needn’t mourn for me, Edward. The game was rigged from the start.”

“What do you mean?”

Louis smiled sadly; he could waste what little energy he had left explaining the injustice and conspiracy of it all, but Edward still had a long life to live and Louis wanted to let him believe that it could still be honest and just and _good_. 

Although, perhaps that was wishful thinking for a lawyer. 

“The bread will always fall butter side down,” Louis finally said.

Harry was not sure he’d heard correctly. “I—what?”

“Something my mum always said – just means some outcomes are inevitable. And I am tired of living in a world that destines nothing but pain and futility.” Louis waved his hand in a dismissive gesture – he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He couldn’t.

Something like desperation began to overtake Harry’s sensibilities. “Please, Louis. There are better worlds out there than the one you have been living in. But you’ll never see them if you give up now.”

Perhaps it was that Edward had shown Louis more kindness in the last 10 minutes than he’d experienced in the last 10 years. Perhaps it was that Edward was beautifully enticing with his large hands and full lips and piercing gaze. Perhaps it was Louis’ impending heat that had replaced all rational thoughts with images of skin and sweat and breathy moans. Or perhaps Louis was just scared and wanted more than anything just to be held, to feel close and protected and intimate with someone during his last few hours.

Whatever the reason, Louis surged forward and pressed his lips to his cellmate/lawyer/whoever the hell Edward was to him at the moment. Sparks ignited instantly, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Edward returned the gesture with seemingly the same need and urgency.

Louis eventually ended up on his back with Harry’s body pressed heavily against him and Harry loved the way his body formed itself around Louis’. With Louis in his arms, he felt like he was handling spun glass, both delicate and unyielding. The omega had been trembling, but he stilled as soon as Harry’s weight settled on top of him and that alone made Harry never want to stop. 

Louis hadn’t made out with anyone like this since he was a horny pup, and then it had been awkward and bumbling and unpracticed. He still felt that way about his own performance – it wasn’t like he’d had much practice over the years – but apparently Edward was comfortable taking the lead and it didn’t take long before they were both breathing hard and clawing at each other with need.

“Never had this kind of chemistry with a beta before,” Louis mused between gasps of air, almost laughing at how very different his relationship with Niall would probably be if his body responded to his touch the way it did to Edward’s.

Harry stilled at the use of his middle name, suddenly very aware of how much Louis still didn’t know about him. If this continued on its current trajectory – if Harry buried himself deep within Louis’ tight heat and fused their bodies together with his knot, it would reveal him as the alpha he was. The temptation of Louis writhing beneath him was almost enough to dissolve what little self-control still remained, but Louis had been betrayed by everyone closest to him. If these were truly his final hours, Harry refused to be the one to hurt him one last time.

“So are we gonna have ‘last night on earth’ sex or what?” Louis finally prompted with sudden nervousness. When there was still no response, Louis thought that he had failed at the only thing he was supposedly good for. He reached out to trace Edward’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, torn between wanting to claim it again and being ashamed for having taken advantage in the first place. “You don’t want to,” he concluded. “I’m sorry.”

Harry’s eyes snapped up. He wanted to tell Louis that he’s wanted this from the moment he laid eyes on him, but that would probably only serve to cement the idea that Louis _was_ just ‘a bunch of holes to fuck’, as he’d so indelicately put it. “What do _you_ want?” Harry rolled to the side and propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Louis. “Right now, if you could have anything.”

Louis thought about it as he twisted one of Edward’s curls around his finger. “Lie to me.”

Harry still the hand that was tangled in his hair and gave Louis a questioning look.

Louis swiped at the fresh moisture caught in his long eyelashes. “I want to know what it feels like to live in one of your better worlds, even if it’s just for one night. Even if it’s not real.” Louis’ fingertips outlined the planes of Edward’s chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “God, I just want to feel loved,” Louis said with a bitter laugh – in the end he was no different than any other pathetic, needy omega. “To be wanted without wanting something else in return.”

Once again the omega had Harry baffled. He was everything his gender was not supposed to be – outspoken and defiant and selfless to a fault – but somehow that only enhanced the soft qualities that were in him too. That quiet vulnerability was a privilege that was earned, and somehow Harry had managed to be found worthy of it.

“I can do that,” Harry vowed, pressing his lips to Louis’ cheeks, lapping away the remaining evidence of his sorrow. “I can make you feel good,” he mumbled against Louis’ jaw before returning to plunge into his mouth.

His hands teased Louis’ nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt while their tongues continued their intricate dance. Drifting lower, Harry grazed his fingers lightly up and down Louis’ length, growing hard himself at the breathy whines escaping the omega’s pretty, swollen mouth.

“Would you allow me to pleasure you?” Harry asked politely, rather enjoying the way Louis was already coming apart for him as he toyed with the hem of his plunging neckline, exposing one of his stimulated nipples first to the cold air then to Harry’s warm mouth.

“Fuck yes,” Louis said breathlessly, hastily removing the few remaining tatters of his shirt. Harry laughed as he helped with the trousers, the husky vibrations sending echoing shivers through Louis’ entire body. It had been many years since anyone’s mouth had been around Louis’ cock – like, back when he was a teenager and could barely even last long enough to enjoy it – and the sensation was enough for his hips to buck in surprise. “S-sorry,” Louis gasped as he clenched his abs in an attempt to get his pelvis to behave itself.

Harry hummed in amusement, Louis still very much at the back of his throat, which only caused Louis to thrust further into him. Many alphas refused to go down on their mates, believing that it was beneath them and served no sexual purpose, but honestly Harry couldn’t imagine anything more empowering or arousing than being able to bring your partner to orgasm with just your tongue.

Harry teased and laved and sucked and just before Louis was sent crashing over the edge, he popped off and kissed his way down his inner thigh. He nipped lightly at the sensitive skin there, the unexpected pain counteracting the pleasure just enough to keep Louis suspended in a continuous state of torturous almost-release.

When he made his way back to Louis’ center, Harry guided his legs around his neck and grinned mischievously up at Louis before bending down to explore his depths. Louis sucked in a breath, his hole instinctively clenching around the unexpected intrusion of Harry’s tongue. But then Harry began running his fingers lightly up and down Louis’ thighs. The gesture was tender, intimate, and Louis had to stop himself from ruining the moment by starting to cry again.

Again and again Harry worked his tongue in circles, occasionally dipping into Louis’ warm depths and causing involuntary spasms deep in his core. Slick was leaking from him now, and Harry used this to coat his palm and wrap his long fingers around Louis’ aching shaft. His hand worked a steady rhythm in tandem with the orchestrations of his mouth, slowly increasing the pace and the pleasure along with Louis’ pulse.

With an honest-to-god scream, Louis finally surrendered to the tension that had started in his groin and slowly coiled itself around everything that was inside him. Years of repressed sexual satisfaction were released in shuddering, pulsing waves, every cell burning and then melting only to be set ablaze again as Harry continued to milk every drop from his body.

The pheromones radiating from the omega alone were nearly enough to bring Harry over the edge with him, but this moment was not about him. Ignoring the insistent throbbing in his own cock, he carefully unwrapped Louis’ jelly limbs from his shoulders, continuing to worship every inch of his legs with his hands and mouth. When he got to the top, he ran his tongue along the deep V of Louis’ pelvis before moving to lap up the salty seed that had spilled out onto his stomach. It was there that he realized Louis was shaking, his chest heaving in halting, stuttering breaths as he attempted to hide his face in his hands.

“Louis? Are you- did I do something wrong?” Louis shook his head, but the question only intensified his cries. “I’m sorry. What did I do?”

Before Louis could think too much about what he was doing, he abruptly sat up and launched himself into Edward’s arms. It should have been humiliating, this violent display of need and emotion, but for the first time in his life he just wanted to be held and comforted and he actually trusted someone enough to do just that. 

“No one’s ever done that for me,” Louis confessed when he had finally calmed down enough to speak. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure I invented that thing I did with my tongue,” Harry said proudly.

“No, I mean no one’s ever- just that I’ve never been with someone who actually cared about _my_ pleasure and I never… I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

The omega’s words saddened him, but he couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. But Harry, for one, found mutual gratification much more satisfying. “This is how it’s supposed to be,” he sighed, continuing to hold and kiss and stroke every part of Louis’ body that he could reach. He spoke and acted with such gentleness and conviction that Louis almost believed him. “I’m sorry you have been robbed of a future that could have been spent proving that to you.”

And suddenly – irrationally – Louis very much wanted that future too. “I’m not dead yet,” he said, pulling out of Edward’s arms. “You still want to know everyone Richard’s been dealing with?”

Harry had thought the omega was out of surprises, but once again he was taken off guard by the abrupt change in conversation. A smug smirk settled on his face. “If I’d known that was all it took to get you talking, I would have sucked you off days ago,” he replied.

Louis had half a mind to let himself hang just to wipe the annoying grin off his face, but Edward’s hand was still on his ass and his whole body was still pleasantly tingling and he deserved to receive more than one rimming in his life damnit, so instead he said, “Let’s start with the judge.”


	4. Out of the Frying Pan

Harry spent the next precious few hours tracking down every lead Louis had given him. The places that Richard supposedly traveled on business. The secret accounts that Richard used to move money around. The sketches that Louis drew of every shady acquaintance that Richard had let into their home along with their names and whatever bits of information he caught from their conversations because they assumed he was no more a threat than any of the other ornamental furniture.

It was surprisingly easy for Harry to follow the evidence Louis had collected – as if someone had already gone through and arranged them into groups and timelines that told the story of an entire network of spies and traitors. It would take a long time for them uproot all the tendrils of insurgency that had been poisoning their kingdom for so many years – and even longer to expose and heal all the damage that had been done.

The only thing missing that Louis said would be there was information on “the crow”. But as disappointed as Harry was not to have a picture of the notorious man the government had been searching out for decades, he would gladly take the overwhelming amount of evidence that clearly proved Louis’ innocence – and dozens of others’ guilt.

By the time Harry was ready to make his case for Louis’ life, he couldn’t seem to find anyone to make his case _to_. The king was not in his office or his chambers or the court. The hallways of Orioch were empty, and a sinking feeling began in his chest as he wound his way down into the bowels of the dungeons.

The lack of guards at the door should have been his first clue – they tended to have a bit of a gruesome sense of entertainment and never liked to miss an execution – but he had to see the cell for himself.

His heart quickened as he approached the small room in which he’d spent the entirety of his relationship with the omega.

Empty.

Where could they have taken him? There was really only one place, but it was still light outside. He was supposed to have until sundown and _it was still light outside_.

Fueled by renewed urgency and barely contained fury, Harry raced back up the many sets of stairs and bounded across the bridge, through the hall of paintings, across the central courtyard, and out into the public square.

There was already a crowd gathered to witness the hanging. Harry had always found it distasteful to end someone’s life in front of so many strangers like this, but he understood that it served to deter anyone else of whatever crime the king suspected to be on the rise at the time – in this case, treason.

However, seeing someone Harry knew to be innocent paraded around the raised stage to be mocked and ridiculed almost made him want to participate in the very kind of activity this display was meant to discourage.

Harry elbowed his way through the crowd and past the guards that walled off the magistrates from the general public. The king was tucked away in one of the interior rooms, but the excessive guards posted around the door easily gave away his location. They tried to refuse him entrance, but ultimately Harry ranked above them and because the king had not explicitly given the order not to be disturbed, they were forced to heed his wishes.

“He’s innocent,” Harry said by way of greeting, slamming down a stack of the more damning evidence he’d collected dramatically on the desk in front of his father.

The king’s expression didn’t change, except perhaps a slight exasperated twitch of the eye.

“It’s all right there. The money trails, the forgeries, the dirty deals. Richard has at least a dozen of your very own officials on his payroll, buying up information on everything from weapons designs to grain counts and selling them to the highest bidders. Most notably, to our highly volatile and disgruntled neighbors to the north.”

His father thumbed casually through the documents, letting out a hum of mild interest but not bothering to do more than skim the contents.

“You’re not even going to read them?”

“I don’t need to. He-”

“You don’t- father, you’re going to hang an innocent man! Is all this just for my benefit? Some sick lesson you want me to learn about sacrificing the pawn to capture the queen? Because Louis is not a pawn. He is a human being. One that is more kind and compassionate and loyal than any of that damn mob out there could even begin to understand.”

Des tented his fingers and waited to speak until his son’s fists unclenched. “Are you quite finished?”

Harry, at least, had the sense to be contrite about his outburst. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Because if you had spoken to me like a young prince instead of interrupting like a spoiled child, I would have told you that I already know the omega is innocent.”

Harry’s head was spinning. “You- but you- then why—“

“Knowing and proving are two different things. You obviously had a soft spot for the boy; I knew you would find a way to get the information that would save his life.”

“You… manipulated me?”

“I motivated you. And with greater results than I had anticipated – we knew Judge Hawthorne was in Richard’s excessively bloated pocket, but so was the palace blacksmith, the granary treasurer, and even one of your own personal guards. The kingdom will be much safer because of the information you provided.”

“I wasn’t the one who provided it,” Harry corrected. 

The king shrugged like that was of minor relevance. The trumpets sounded to signal the setting of the sun and he got up to make a move toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

Des raised his eyebrows. “I’ve got an execution to administer to.”

The ground beneath Harry’s feet seemed to open up once again. “But you said- you know he’s innocent.”

The king gripped his son’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “The fish will only emerge if you dangle the bait.”

Understanding finally dawned on Harry. “You’re going to hang Richard.”

“Mmm,” Des confirmed, releasing his hold on Harry. “We’ll round up the rest of the individuals identified to be questioned and punished, but Richard needs to be made an example of. He was on to our investigation, but we had nothing actionable to show for our efforts and he was preparing to flee. But when he thought he’d successfully pinned the blame on his partner, I knew he would want to stick around to witness the payoff for all his cunning. Pride will always be the downfall of men like Richard.”

Harry snorted in derision – a lecture on the dangers of pride lost its legitimacy coming from a man who thought he knew everything. “Your little game has kept Louis wrongfully imprisoned for weeks. He’s physically weak and emotionally distraught – the breaking of the bond could kill him.”

The king knew he could be calculating and imperious – or, as the queen would call him, ‘a stubborn hard-ass’ – but he was never intentionally cruel. At least to those who didn’t deserve it. “If he is as strong as you seem to think he is, then he shouldn’t have a problem.”

His Majesty King Desmond Styles was flanked by guards and led up to his grandiose balcony where he could put on the show he’d written for his people. Because that was all this was – theater. Full of scandal and intrigue and a plot twist no one would see coming. All because he wanted to put an exclamation point on the damn point he was trying to make.

But if they had just sat down with Louis – treated him with respect, or at the very least civility, and given him any reason to deserve his loyalty – they could have gotten what they wanted anyway. For all that his father did to maintain peace in their kingdom, Harry guessed that he missed the challenge of war and instead satisfied his need to strategize by solving problems with unnecessarily complex solutions.

Harry didn’t follow his father’s entourage, and instead skirted around the considerable crowd so that he was positioned by the stairs that led up to the gallows. He could see Louis’ face clearly, and it was not one he’d soon forget. They had bathed him, removing all the dirt and old makeup and dried blood that must have been caked on his entire body because it was like he was seeing Louis for the first time.

Almost everything about him was sharp – his nose, his eyes, his cheekbones. Harry would have thought him chiseled from stone were it not for his bronzed skin, glowing despite having been deprived of the sun for several weeks. He held himself with dignity, neither defiant nor defeated, and Harry was probably the only person paying close enough attention to see the slight tremble in his hands.

“Thank you, loyal citizens of Turroch, for heeding your civic duty on this grim occasion. This kingdom is our home, and it is our responsibility to maintain its integrity. As such, it is with a heavy heart that I must expose and condemn any malfeasance that undermines that integrity.”

There was a pause, and if Harry could look anywhere besides the single tear running down Louis’ cheek, he would have seen the small nod his father gave to his guards on the ground, the shuffle of movement to his right as the man whose arm Harry had broken was wrested into submission and dragged up the stairs – a considerable feat that took four of Turroch’s strongest to accomplish. 

Instead, he only saw Louis’ eyes widen, and then he was being dragged to the side of the wooden platform – on the opposite side from where Harry had posted himself.

“Shit,” Harry muttered, attempting to weave through the aghast crowd to get to where Louis had practically been thrown down the stairs, his part of the production having concluded.

“Richard Quintis Armand the third, you have betrayed your king and your kingdom. You have become an enemy of Turroch, as have those from whom you have purchased your innocence. But lady justice cannot be bought,” the king declared, eliciting whispers and gasps and at least one fainting spell. “You are guilty of treason of the highest order, and are hereby stripped of everything your actions dishonor – your wealth, your land, your title.” Another dramatic pause. “And your life.”

The crowd was so focused on the king’s staged performance that they didn’t notice the prince passing right by them, so he was able to reach Louis just as they were positioning the noose around Richard’s neck.

“You need to get out of here,” Harry said, tugging on Louis’ arm.

“You did it,” he said, eyes round and disbelieving. “You saved me.”

“You saved yourself. But it might not matter if we don’t get you to a physician before that platform drops out from under your mate’s feet and your bond is broken.”

Louis turned his gaze toward the stage and saw Richard sneering and glaring daggers at him. He was yelling too, judging by the amount of spit flinging off his meaty lips, but Louis’ heart was still pounding in his ears and he only caught the occasional insult or obscenity. “I think I’d prefer to watch.”

Harry was beginning to wonder if Louis actually had a death wish – bonding was more than just ceremonial; it tied two people together in very real, very physical ways, which was why making or breaking one was so highly regulated. “Do you have any idea what this is going to do to you? How much pain you’re going to be in?”

Louis’s eyes darkened. “Do _you_? Because last time I checked, I was an omega who has been through a bond-breaking before, and you were mate-less beta with magic hands and a hero complex.”

“I-“ Well, he wasn’t wrong – other than the part about being a beta. Harry had a lot of secondhand knowledge about things, having spent more time with books and tutors than most devoted to working the fields, but he had never come close to witnessing something like this. “What can I do?”

Louis smiled, and there was the softness Harry remembered. “Don’t let me go.”

The king piled on the drama and suspense for several more minutes before the lever clinked in release and the distinct crack of bone echoed out over the silent crowd.

Pain exploded in Louis’ head and shot down his neck and spine and spread quickly down every neural pathway in his body. It was like simultaneously swallowing a thousand angry hornets and drowning in an icy lake and even as his knees buckled and his chest convulsed and his stomach heaved his eyes never left the man that had brutalized and betrayed him for his entire adult life.

Harry watched in awe and terror as Louis crumpled in his arms, refusing to make a sound even as all his muscles simultaneously seized up and angry threads of red spider-webbed all across his skin. His strong arms supported Louis’ entire weight for several minutes before the physical shock began loosening its hold over his body.

When the ice started retreating from his veins, Louis knew that the worst was over – though it had been a lifetime since his first bond-breaking, it was not an experience one forgot. But unlike last time, that shock of cold was quickly chased away and in its place was a fire just as consuming and even though it had been almost as long since Louis had gone into heat, he remembered that feeling too.

It wasn’t supposed to start for a few more days, but Louis was also supposed to be dead by then and access to suppressants hadn’t been at the top of his priority list. And now all his stupid omega body seemed to care about was that it was newly unmated and surrounded by potential alpha fuck-buddies to fill his belly with pups.

“Get me out of here,” Louis begged, still unable to pull himself upright as his body temperature shot up at an alarming rate.

“What’s wrong?” Harry searched him for any sign that Louis’ condition was deteriorating, but instead found him looking better than ever.

“Please. Now,” Louis ground out as his insides tensed and spasmed in anticipation of receiving… something. Anything.

“What are you—“

The scent of slick slammed into Harry at the same time Louis let out a high-pitched omega whine that caused every alpha in the square to whip their heads in his direction. It was a needy, desperate sound that was meant to stir up the natural instinct to possess, control, breed. Even trusted bondmates ran the risk of the alpha losing control in response to that call.

So yeah, they needed to get the hell out of there.

Harry was never more grateful for his anonymity as he hefted Louis over his shoulder and made his way out of the crowded courtyard.

He commandeered a horse from one of the guards that Harry’s father must have assigned to replace the one that had been revealed in Louis’ sketchbook. After maneuvering himself into the saddle with Louis on his lap, Harry turned to the guard – who’d introduced himself as Liam – and said, “If anyone asks after me, I’m spending a few days at the country house. Alone.”

Perhaps Liam was trying to earn his new charge’s trust, or perhaps he had been guarding Turroch’s elite too long to be fazed by an apparent sexual indiscretion, but either way he nodded.

Harry gave his mare a swift kick and she tore off toward the edge of town.

Louis was straddling Harry’s hips, his head buried in Harry’s neck as he clung to his chest. Harry tried to make the ride as steady as possible, but the constant jarring motion was torture to Louis’ already hyper-aroused body and the friction of his full cock against Harry’s stomach caused him to come twice on the short ride to the secluded estate.

Even though Harry’s scent as an alpha was currently suppressed, his instincts were not and it took every fiber of self-control he had to carry Louis into the house, place him in whatever bedroom was closest, and then close him in there alone.

He leaned heavily against the door, torturing himself with the sounds of Louis’ begging from within. Begging him not to leave him alone again. To stay and share the warmth of his body. To take the pain of need and turn it into the pleasure of release.

As Louis whined and moaned and pleaded, Harry warred within himself. 

He had no right to take advantage of Louis in this state. 

But Louis was clearly suffering and asking for his help.

He was still a stranger to Louis.

But they had already shared a deep intimacy.

He had never shared an omega’s heat before.

But he knew how to satisfy partners of all genders.

As Harry debated internally, a light thud sounded from in the room, followed a few seconds later by a desperate clawing on the other side of the thin wood. Harry banged his head against the door in frustration, trying and failing to unclench his fists – he knew if he went in there he would have only marginally more control over his actions than Louis.

What finally broke him was not the sobbing or the overwhelming scent or even his own primal instincts. It was a soft, vulnerable plea; whispered words that no alpha had been able to resist since the earth began revolving around the sun. “I need you. Please.”

Harry pulled open the door and Louis fell into his arms. “It’s okay,” he said softly, brushing the fringe away from Louis’ sweat-soaked forehead, “I’ve got you. I’ve still got you.”

***

A heat was only supposed to last 2-3 days, but it took nearly a week for Louis to become verbal again. Mostly he was uttering nonsense, but the occasional coherent thought slipped out.

“Thank you.”

“Never felt so good.”

“Best sex I ever had.”

“Best sex _anyone’s_ ever had.”

“Who needs an alpha when I’ve got you?”

And that’s when the shame started to settle over him. In the beginning Harry had tried to avoid knotting Louis, but it was all the omega seemed to want and the only thing that satiated him long enough to get some fluids in him. The alternative was one or both of them dying of dehydration, but Louis had been so blissed out and overwhelmed that he hadn’t really understood that Harry was giving him exactly what he’d asked for.

The more contrite part of Harry knew he probably should have stuck around, explained everything and made breakfast for him and maybe tried to get him to believe that this was more than just a product of coincidence. But the more selfish part of him – the stronger part, apparently – didn’t want to know what Louis would think of him without all the misinformation and raging hormones and life-or-death circumstances.

Although no one would question Harry’s absence at the palace – anyone who got close enough to ask would easily be able to detect the lingering scent of omega that had seeped into his skin – it was easy enough for Harry to convince himself that his royal duties had been put on hold for too long already and that there was no time to waste in getting back to them.

Louis’ grip was surprisingly strong on him when he tried to pull away, so Harry wrapped himself tightly around the omega, eliciting a contented sigh as he melted into Harry’s form like two puzzle pieces locking together. Louis looked much younger this way, the normally sharp angles of his face softened in sleep and comfort and contentment, and a surge of pride welled up in Harry knowing he was the one who made it that way.

Perhaps the magistrates could wait, just a few more minutes.

***

When Louis woke up – _really_ woke up – his mind struggled to piece together everything that had happened. He remembered prison. He remembered being walked out to the gallows. He remembered fear and hopelessness and confusion and pain and Edward’s strong arms and piercing gaze.

He remembered Edward’s promise like a lifeline before drowning in a lake of fire.

Though Edward was noticeably absent – which Louis tried not to view as a reflection on his own desirability – the smell of him lingered in the air, in the sheets, on his skin, and the details lost to Louis’ memory still echoed through his body. Specifically, the pleasant ache in his backside.

Louis explored the house with probably more boldness than was afforded by his limited experience with its owner, but he had escaped the hangman’s noose and gotten out of a horrible marriage and survived his first heat in ten years and he _felt_ pretty bold.

The house was significantly smaller than Richard’s gaudy mansion, but revealed its extravagance in more subtle ways. The tapestries on the walls. The perfectly manicured gardens in the center courtyard. The china and silver on display in the cabinets. The intricate carvings in the wood of the piano.

The piano.

Louis ran his fingers along the smooth ivory, itching to know if it sounded as beautiful as it looked. He hadn’t played since his brief marriage to his first bondmate, and the memory made him feel much older than his 28 years.

Still very much unclothed, he looked down at himself, at the tattoos he usually tried to forget about – his past branded on his arm for all to see. The arrow worn by all children unclaimed by an alpha’s crest. The stag and heart that constituted his first bondmate’s legacy, and the compass and rope that made up Richard’s – ironic now, Louis thought. 

Several he’d gotten as punishment for stealing food as a child – although if he’d actually gotten caught every time he did there wouldn’t be enough room on his whole body to mark – and a couple he’d received as reward. The dagger, for example, was given to him by the father of a girl whose life he’d once saved – it was winter and she’d fallen into an icy lake where Louis had happened to be fishing. Tattoo designs varied in cost, and he’d never seen that one on anyone else before so he had to assume it was quite expensive.

But that one redemptive symbol got lost amidst the many more marks of tragedy and failure, and Louis himself often forgot it was there.

He sat down and lightly pressed down one of the keys. The note was warm and smooth like being wrapped in velvet. His fingers found a few chords out of muscle memory, but his rudimentary skills were unable to do this beautiful instrument justice and he quickly tore himself away.

Louis was famished, but this was not his house and he had learned to be hesitant to take anything he wasn’t explicitly offered. Also, he was rather used to the feeling of an empty stomach. In childhood it was out of necessity, and as an adult out of expectation. An irritating double standard – a fat alpha was viewed as prosperous and wealthy – but not the worst standard that was imposed on his gender.

There was a warm and well-loved library in the house, and in another life Louis might have enjoyed lounging on the leather furniture in front of the fire with a good book. As it was, inactivity made him anxious – too restless from too many years of having to strive and posture.

The longer he was left alone, the more Louis’ sense of unease grew. He knew Edward had taken him there, that they had been physically intimate. And usually an omega had little to fear from a beta. But he also knew that Edward worked in the palace, and anyone constantly being around those pompous holier-than-thou attitudes could learn to be just as cruel or possessive as any alpha.

And Louis didn’t want to push his luck. 

He still had his head attached to his body, had been acquitted of all charges, and made it through his heat without being gang-banged by a rogue group of alphas. And as safe as he felt in this place, and as pretty and tantalizingly talented Edward was, Louis wasn’t interested in being a kept omega again.

He was finally free.

Now all he had to do was figure out what he wanted to do for the rest of his fucking life.


	5. Second Chances

Upon leaving, Louis was surprised to discover the amount of land surrounding the residence. It was enough to grow crops or raise horses, and he found it curious that Edward seemed to be doing neither. Even if he preferred a more cleanly profession, he obviously had the means to hire others to work the land for him. And if he wasn’t going to take advantage of the space, it would be much more practical for him to have a smaller place in the city. Louis couldn’t really fault him, though – if he had to work all day in the company of the uptight palace magistrates, he’d probably want to spend his free time in the middle of nowhere away from other people as well.

Louis followed the faint path beaten into the grass by horses’ footfall toward what he assumed was civilization. It took almost an hour of walking for him to come upon the edge of town, but once he was in familiar territory it was easy to find his way around. 

It wasn’t really until he got there, though, that he realized… he had nowhere to go. He was technically homeless. But even if Richard had not been stripped of his land and possessions, Louis didn’t think he could bring himself to live there – it was more of a prison than Orioch had been. So Louis’ feet took him to the place that had been his haven over the last decade.

“Niall!” Louis called, dramatically crashing through the door of the dilapidated old apothecary house and startling several customers into dropping their glass vials on the floor.

“Lou?” Niall asked, squinting at the figure silhouetted in the bright sunlight. He leapt over the scattered shards and pulled Louis into his arms. “Oh, Louis. Fuck, I was so worried about you. I- I heard about the execution, but I couldn’t- fuck, I couldn’t watch. And then Emma heard from Natalia about Richard and I went looking for you but you were gone, and I- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Niall was in tears and in true omega fashion, Louis was the one providing comfort even though he was the one who’d nearly gotten killed. “I’m alright.”

Once the initial emotion had passed, Niall pulled back and his expression turned clinical, eyes searching for any part of Louis’ body that might need medical attention. “What happened to you?”

Louis glanced around at the prying eyes, the other patrons no longer even attempting to pretend to shop for a chance at juicy gossip, and whispered, “Later.”

Niall was more concerned for his friend than his profit margin, and after shooing away the onlookers and a quick cleanup of the mess on the wood floor, he closed the doors temporarily and pulled Louis up into the room in the attic of the shop for added privacy. In the winter, it was often used to provide shelter for families that had nowhere else to stay, but because it was summer it was vacant, serving only as a storeroom for extra stock.

“What happened? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Louis sighed – where to start? “Remember when those guards came into the shop and tried to get me to come in for questioning?”

Niall chuckled mirthlessly, “Yeah, and you told ‘em to show you a warrant or fuck off.”

Louis smirked at the memory. He’d always had trouble respecting power when it was being abused. “Well they chose warrant. Arrested me at the masquerade and accused me of treason.”

Niall snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t think they ever really believed I did anything, but they thought I could provide leverage against Richard. And they were right.” As outraged as Louis was about being wrongfully convicted – knowingly, as it turned out – at least it had ultimately earned him his freedom. “I kept my mouth shut at first—“

“That’s a first.”

“—but then I found out that all my sisters had been married off already.”

Niall took a moment to process this information – he was well aware of the contract that had kept Louis indebted to that monster. “And the sick bastard still didn’t let you go?”

“I think… well, it makes sense. Richard had always planned to use me as a scapegoat. He wasn’t the smartest criminal, and by keeping me around until the inevitable investigation into his activities, he could both absolve himself and get rid of me. Quite smart, really, as far as Richard’s plans go. I just happen to be smarter.”

“Okay, but they released you a week ago. Where have you been?” Niall watched as his best friend squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze and became concerned. Louis might be oblivious – or willfully ignorant – about the attention he drew, but Niall had spent many nights treating the aftermath of unbonded omegas that ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Did something happen?”

Louis studied the shelf of bottles to his right and straightened out a few so that the labels faced front. “Ehm, I kind of went into heat right when the bond broke.”

“You _what_?”

Louis threw his hands up in the air, nearly knocking over the bottles he’d just arranged. “Well I wasn’t exactly on time with my suppressants, what with being wrongfully imprisoned and all.”

“Louis! You could have been—“

“I know!” Louis had long since learned the dangers of being an omega, regardless of heat cycle or bond status or sex. “I know what could have happened, but it didn’t. It’s okay. I was somewhere safe.” 

“Where?” Niall pressed. “The Silvas are already moving in to your old place.”

“That was never my place.”

Niall wasn’t an idiot; he knew when Louis was being evasive. “Where have you been staying, Lou?”

“With a friend, alright?” Louis was intentionally vague, unwilling to admit how easily he’d succumbed to his gender’s stereotype. “You’re not my only friend, you know.”

Niall crossed his arms and pinned Louis with a look. “Coulda fooled me.”

“Hey!”

Niall sighed in familiar exasperation, but his tone softened. “I’m just trying to look out for you. After all you’ve been through.” Louis was still avoiding eye contact, but they had been friends long enough for Niall to know that Louis wouldn’t talk unless he wanted to, and so he reached out and gave Louis’ shoulder a little squeeze. “You know you’ve always got a place with me if you need it.”

Louis did know. Niall was a bleeding heart, selfless to the point of recklessness. He wouldn’t hesitate to take Louis in even though his business was barely staying afloat and they had adopted half a dozen children – unwanted byproducts of the many brothels that constituted one of the only ways for unbonded omegas to earn their own money.

But Louis didn’t want to be a burden. He wanted to prove that his body was not his only asset. That he was intelligent and resourceful and didn’t need an alpha to support him. “I could stay here,” he suggested, looking around the storage area. “At least until it gets cold and someone else needs it.”

“It still gets cold at night up here and you don’t even have a set of sheets.” 

This was a palace compared to some of the places Louis had slept in his lifetime, but he could see Niall about to dig his heels in. “Alright, so I’ll stay with you and Emma until I get my hands on some textiles.”

Niall frowned. “Roof needs fixing too. Blankets won’t do any good if they’re soakin’ wet.”

Louis suppressed a groan. “Fine, that too. But it’ll only be a few days, then I’m out of your hair. I’m not a charity case.” Well, not anymore. “I’m getting a job and paying rent.” What job he could get that didn’t involve taking his clothes off, he wasn’t sure.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Louis had had to rely on other people for everything for his entire life. But deep down he’d always believed that if he was just given the chance, he could prove that omegas had more to offer than their looks and their wombs. If not to society at large, then at least to Louis himself. So it wasn’t just a nicety when he said, “I really do.”

Niall thought about it for a moment then nodded his head, having come to a conclusion. “You’ll work in the shop.”

It wasn’t a question and probably a better opportunity than Louis would receive anywhere else – it felt a little bit like cheating, but he could take the high road once he was actually standing on his own two feet. Besides, it would make Niall feel better knowing he could keep an eye on him. “Are you sure?”

Niall nodded. “But… only if you agree to dinner with Emma and the kids tonight.” The little ones loved Louis, and the distraction would give Niall a much needed break from the madness. “And at least try to refrain from terrorizing the customers?”

Louis smiled, but didn’t promise anything.

Family meals were the best kind of chaos. Small bodies vibrating with unreleased energy as they attempted to confine themselves to a chair. Peels of laughter floating above the light conversation. The occasional vegetable being catapulted across the table. It reminded Louis of his childhood, and almost made him regret not having any kids of his own.

Once dinner was over and Louis had run the kids ragged enough that they actually voluntarily put themselves to bed, Niall stoked the fire and laid out some extra bedding in the living room – Louis drew the line at squeezing into bed with Niall and Emma. He curled up on the rug and his eyes drifted shut – it was made from a bear hide, and much softer and warmer than the wooden furniture – and slept better than he had in 10 years.

Louis allowed this to become their routine for several days, giving himself an adjustment period before completely moving out on his own. He and Niall would set off into the city together and then spend the day working in the shop. It turned out that when Louis was actually trying, he could be quite charming. He flattered the alphas and commiserated with the omegas that came in, and Niall’s sales almost doubled in that first week – though Niall would claim it was simple mathematics, as there was now double the number of people working there.

He had never received a formal education, but Louis had always been good at paying attention. Sometimes it was purely for survival, like knowing which weeds and wildflowers were safe to eat or how to smile politely when all he wanted to do was murder someone. Other times it was simply due to exposure, like how he had a passable knowledge of multiple languages due to the variety of clientele that frequented his mother’s company when he was growing up.

And now, though Louis was not a licensed chemist, he’d started to pick up on the proper recommendations for common ailments such as headaches, fevers, infections, and stomach issues. But as many things as he was still learning… well, how to fix a roof was simply not one of them. As a child, he’d had never had much of a roof to bother fixing. And by the time he did, there were others who actually knew what they were doing to do it for him.

It didn’t stop him from trying, though. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult – add a bit of thatch here, bend a few wires there.

After a few weeks of trial and error – mostly error, as Louis counted himself lucky that he still possessed all of his fingers and toes – and once the sunlight had stopped seeping through the cracks, Louis finally deemed the place habitable. But the rain greeted him that first night and, though uninvited, welcomed itself into many areas in his new home. Louis had to move his bed to the middle of the floor and forego the use of his newly knitted – and now thoroughly drenched – blankets and attempt to sleep while his body shivered in an attempt to stay warm.

Though not quite as dire, it reminded him of the last time his living arrangements had been this uncomfortable and an obnoxious little voice in the back of his head reminded him that there was someone else he could ask for help.

He couldn’t actually picture Edward holding a hammer, but Louis didn’t remember seeing anyone else at the rural estate that could perform the upkeep and since he was a beta there was at least a slight chance that he had been taught more practical skills growing up.

The idea of asking Edward for help caused Louis’ insides to knot up, but he was starting to feel like a ninth wheel in Niall’s life. It had been several weeks since Louis had left the country residence – since he had begged this man to fuck him and then snuck away the second his needs were satisfied – and he wasn’t sure what to expect when he knocked at the door.

It certainly wasn’t to be greeted by the smell of fresh bread and buried in a flour blizzard as he was smooshed into Edward’s arms.

“You’re okay,” Harry breathed, wrapping himself around the omega as tightly as possible. He filled his lungs of that sweet scent – the first deep breath he’d been able to take since he’d come back from that day of pointless meetings to find Louis missing. Finding him would have required the requisitioning of imperial resources, which would incite a formal investigation and a deeper look into their activities than either of them particularly wanted. So instead he had taken to spending any available time at the mostly unused remote royal residence in the hopes that Louis might find his way back there. “I didn’t know what to think when I came back from work you were gone.”

“And this?” Louis asked, drawing a line through the white powder now dusting his arm and holding up his finger for inspection.

“I bake when I’m stressed,” Harry explained – his father had never quite approved of this form of expression, which was one of the many reasons Harry rather preferred spending time out here rather than at the palace. “I was worried that something had happened to you,” he said, curling himself protectively around Louis’ smaller form.

Louis wanted to pull away. Well, he wanted _to want_ to pull away. But he didn’t. It was an unfamiliar and not unpleasant feeling to have someone concerned about his welfare – and Niall didn’t count because that was literally his job. “Didn’t mean to worry you,” Louis mumbled into Edward’s chest, which was bare beneath the apron, he noticed. His cock twitched in recognition and interest and it took a moment before he remembered they were in the middle of a conversation. “Went to see my friend Niall.”

Harry had heard that name before. He owned the apothecary from which the royal physicians obtained their supplies, and Harry’s grip tightened even further. “He’s a healer. Were you- I mean, are you injured? I tried to be gentle, but… did I hurt you?” And was that why he’d left?

Edward sounded genuinely distressed at this thought that Louis pulled away so he could look at his face and found that it echoed a similar torment. Despite the mixed signals it would send, Louis could not stop himself from raising up on his tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek – he tasted of cinnamon. “You have only ever been a help to me,” he assured him, lowering himself back to the ground. “But he’s my best friend, and I hadn’t seen him since the arrest and probably had him thinking the worst had happened.” 

Harry’s ruffled feathers smoothed a bit at that, but his hold on Louis never wavered. “The worst almost did happen.”

“But it didn’t. Because of you.”

Maybe that was true, but while his father may have known Louis was innocent, the king rarely made threats without full intent to follow through with them if things did not go his way. But Harry would accept the role of hero if it meant Louis would continue to look at him with such soft adoration.

“Is that why you’ve returned to me? Because you’ve gotten yourself into a predicament and need my help again?” He’d said it in jest, but Louis seemed to shrink away from him.

Louis hadn’t realized he still had any pride left after everything that had happened, but he found himself pulling away in shame. In the end, he was exactly what everyone had always expected him to be – an accessory that was valuable only in its ability to be used by others. “I shouldn’t have come,” he muttered.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Harry said. “Of course I’m happy that you’re here. Whatever the reason.”

Louis shook his head and took a step back. “It’s stupid. Forget I was ever here.”

“Don’t go.” Harry automatically reached out to grab Louis’ arm when he turned to leave. “I’ve missed your company.”

Louis glared down at the hand keeping him tethered there. “Oh really? Are you sure it’s my ‘company’ you missed?” Perhaps that was unfair – Louis’ dignity was hanging on by a thin thread and he was feeling more than a little defensive – but at least the hold on him was released.

Once again Harry honestly didn’t know what to make of the omega – he seemed to be able to flow seamlessly between anxiety and gratitude and desire and anger and it made his head spin.

When Louis could no longer take the kicked-puppy look on Edward’s face, he finally said, “I’m sorry.”

Still confused, Harry asked, “Sorry you left, or sorry you came back?”

Louis sighed and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Both? Neither? I don’t know anymore. I have been under someone else’s care for my entire life and all that I’ve ever wanted was to be free from that and now that I am I don’t know how to do any of this.” Tears were stinging at the back of his eyes and he looked up at the sky in an attempt to keep them from falling. “Why do I always seem to fail at the things that are the most important.”

Harry risked being scolded again to tilt Louis’ chin down so that he could look into his eyes – it was odd to see so much disappointment and self-loathing in someone who always seemed so sure of himself. “Starting something new is always difficult, and most are afraid to even try. You are starting a whole new life, and for that I am in awe of your fortitude.”

Louis searched those earthy green eyes and found nothing but sincerity. “You have too much faith in me.”

“You don’t have nearly enough faith in yourself.” Harry believed that wholeheartedly. “And it is not failure to seek help when you need it.”

The words got caught in Louis’ throat, but he nodded.

“You are welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Harry offered. “Or as long as you like.”

It would be much easier for Louis to fit himself into someone else’s life instead of carving out one of his own, so it was a good thing he had a reason to decline. “I have been working with Niall at the apothecary and it would be a long walk into town.”

That wasn’t exactly a firm ‘no’ and Harry tried again. “You could borrow a horse. Or work here if you wanted. Or not even work at all.”

Louis’ expression turned pained because this was exactly why he’d left in the first place. “If this is out of some misguided sense of propriety after what happened during my heat, you can save yourself the trouble.”

Harry hummed and grazed his thumb across Louis’ collarbone – propriety was definitely not his concern at the moment. “Did my performance leave something to be desired?” He could feel Louis’ skin heat up beneath his touch and continued trailing his fingers up his neck and toward his lips, which had parted in invitation. “I can do better next time.”

His touch was light but his hungry gaze gripped tightly and a tremor ran through Louis’ body at the thought of the things Edward could do to him if he actually had time to prepare. “I can assure you, if my dick was in charge of the matter, I would throw myself onto your bed and never leave.” Louis felt as much as heard when he chuckled and god it was deep and husky and _knowing_ and Louis’ brain very nearly lost that battle. “I just… I need to know what it’s like to live my own life.”

Harry wanted to say that it would be different with him, but it wouldn’t be. In fact, pursuing any further relationship would inevitably be devastating for both of them. Louis would find out the truth about Harry’s identity, and even if he forgave him for it, a relationship with a royal came with so many strings and responsibilities and expectations that Louis would never achieve true freedom again. And that would make Harry the very type of alpha that Louis feared and hated.

Harry blew out a deep breath, letting go of his own selfish desires and relaxing his face into an easy grin. “How can I help?”

Louis’ eyes landed on the large glass doors at the back of the house and lit up as an idea occurred to him that would both allow him to maintain his hard won independence while also not almost freezing to death every night. “I don’t suppose you have any books on home repair in that ridiculously oversized library of yours, do you?”

***

Although the information in Edward’s library had been invaluable, Louis didn’t trust himself to go back to his house again – or, more accurately, he didn’t trust himself to be strong enough to leave again. 

But that didn’t stop Edward from coming into the shop. 

It was Louis’ own fault for telling him about Niall in the first place, but he was polite and purchased something every time and despite the suggestive looks his best friend was giving him, it was easy enough for Louis to blame the frequent visits on a poor immune system.

It became less easy over the next few weeks when Edward would bring him books or art or candles, and eventually Louis had to explain that this was the man with whom he’d spent his heat.

“You mean the lawyer who saved your life and gave you the best sex you’ve ever had and still wants to spend time with you while also respecting your boundaries?”

Louis stopped unpacking a new crate of glass bottles to narrow his eyes at Niall. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Niall said with an innocent shrug. And once Louis had gone back to his task he continued, “But would it really be so bad letting someone else into your life? He’s obviously got money and treats you well. And he’s a beta, so you wouldn’t have to worry about the whole bonding thing again, yeah?”

Louis sighed and set the glasses aside. “If you’re that anxious to get rid of me, at least have the decency to tell me to my face.”

“O’ course not,” Niall snorted – if he’d wanted Louis out of his life, he would have done it when Louis had accidentally burned his house down trying to cook dinner in celebration of his engagement. It gave them an excuse to build a larger one to accommodate their rapidly growing family, but Emma was still right pissed about losing her grandmother’s quilt. “Just want you to be happy.”

Perhaps Louis was letting the pain of his past relationships distort his perception, but he still had the sense that he was missing something when it came to Edward. While Louis’ dirty laundry had been thoroughly aired, he had been in the man’s house, in his bed, and still knew virtually no details about his life. With only this surface level knowledge, Edward appeared the perfect gentleman with all of the perks and none of the flaws.

And that, Louis could not believe.

Instead of trying to explain his sense of unease, Louis plastered on an exaggerated smile and asked, “Don’t I look happy?”

“You look exhausted, actually. Maybe someone of your delicate disposition is not suited to working every day.”

Louis knew he was joking, but the fact that many would genuinely be of that opinion still got under his skin. And the fact that they could be right – because lately he was practically dead on his feet by closing time most days – had him downright aggrieved. “What if I can’t do this, Niall?” he said in barely more than a whisper.

“You’re already doing just fine.” Niall put his arms around Louis and pretended not to hear the soft sniffling going on beside his ear. “Want me to stay over tonight? I’ve got the good snacks that Emma doesn’t let me keep in the house hidden in back.”

Louis laughed, casually swiping his arm across his face and removing any lingering moisture as he brushed the hair out of his eyes and stepped out of Niall’s embrace. “I must look a proper wreck if you’re offering to give me your junk food.”

“To split it,” Niall clarified in all seriousness, staring Louis down until he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Either way, you needn’t worry. About me or the safety of your chocolates. We’ll both be fine here by ourselves.”

Niall eyed him suspiciously. “And you’ll both be right where I left you in the morning?”

“Yes. Now go,” he insisted, shooing Niall toward the door. “I won’t be having Thomas blaming me for delaying dinner because I kept you too late.”

Niall grimaced as he grabbed his coat. “Kid practically bit my finger off the other day. You’d think a growth spurt would stop at some point, yeah?”

“Maybe not – it’s not like he’s got your genes.”

“Oi,” Niall called without looking back, “you’re one to talk!”

Louis’ mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile as he locked up the shop and made his way up the stairs toward his tiny loft. It had come a long way since that first cold, stormy night and could now be considered quite cozy.

As a child, Louis had sewed and knitted and even embroidered on occasion, and had thus managed to fill the space with an inviting, if a bit eclectic, set of textures and patterns from the scraps he’d begged off of the tailor next door. There was also a cedar chest that was far too large for the number of clothes he still possessed, as well as a writing desk that contained the professional stationary Niall used for writing prescriptions and ordering supplies.

Louis’ favorite spot, though, was the rocking chair in the far corner of the room. He’d positioned it under the quickly filling bookshelf and surrounded it with candles that smelled of lavender and lemon. There was also a soft throw hanging over the arm that Louis was convinced was woven from magic thread because it was somehow simultaneously cool like silk and warm like fleece and light like down and rich like velvet and almost as comforting as being wrapped in his mother’s arms again.

As Louis curled up into this tiny refuge, it occurred to him that all the things it was filled with – all the things he loved about it – had been gifts from Edward. The scented candles that provided a comfortable glow and reminded him of fields of wildflowers and orchards. The books of poetry and fiction that were filled with stories of love and longing and loss. Even the blanket that had been plucked straight from angels’ wings had been Louis’ ever since he’d spied it gathering dust in Edward’s library while they were scouring the shelves for information on thatching a roof.

Surrounded by such comforts, it didn’t take long for Louis’ eyes to drift shut. But he did have time for one final thought before slipping into unconsciousness.

Maybe he should give Edward a chance after all.


	6. Impossible

It had been a long time since Louis had actually chosen to pursue a relationship – not since the brief period between bondings when he was just a stupid teenager who’d confused lust with love. But Louis was older and wiser now; he was under no delusions that he was in love with Edward, but he certainly believed he could get there. And maybe he was no better than any other omega in that way, but he wanted romance, damnit.

Of course, a proper omega would be coy and demure and alluring and wait patiently for a potential mate to come to them. But Louis was none of those things. He was jaded and tired and too damn old to play games when it came to matters of the heart, so Louis decided that the next time Edward came into the shop – which was usually a couple times per week – he would make his intentions very clear.

“I wish to court you,” Louis said by way of greeting. Of course, there were other customers within earshot who didn’t hesitate to balk at his forwardness. When Edward, too, seemed shocked into speechlessness, he amended, “I mean, I would like you… to court, ehm, me.” More silence. “If that’s what you want.”

Louis was staring at him – hell, half the store was staring at him – but he was truly without words. Half the time he wasn’t certain if Louis even liked him, much less that he would be interested in him as a romantic partner. Everything from the neck tried desperately to form an immediate yes – he had never felt about anyone the way he did when he was with Louis – but it warred with his head and the words got stuck in the battleground of his throat.

Louis didn’t know what he was asking. He had just gotten out of a very scrutinized, very constraining relationship and so far, Harry had been able to keep him away from that part of his life. But a formal courtship was an entirely different affair. Oh how he wished that he were the man Louis believed him to be. But he was a prince, and that came with much more strings and baggage than Louis could even fathom and a greater burden than he could possibly shoulder.

At Edward’s hesitation, Louis guessed, “That is not what you want.”

“No, I—“

“No, it’s fine.” Louis looked down and flattened out some non-existent wrinkles in the apron he wore over his clothes. “I understand. I confused your kindness for intention.” Louis looked back up at him and smiled, but it was tight and forced. “My mistake.”

Harry’s brows furrowed in thought as Louis turned to straighten out some of the products on the shelf behind him. His intentions hadn’t been to… well, to _intend_ anything. He had simply been fascinated by the omega and enjoyed his company and wanted to ensure he was cared for and comfortable. Which, now that he thought about it, sounded quite a lot like he wanted to court him.

“The mistake was my own,” Harry realized, stepping into Louis’ line of sight when he wouldn’t look at him. “I have been acting without thinking.”

Perhaps they were both guilty in that regard. Some of the anger abated knowing that Louis would not be bearing the full blame for the misinterpretation, and he squared his shoulders and asked in all seriousness, “Are you thinking now?”

Harry’s eyes grazed Louis’ body with the intimacy of a delicate touch and his voice dropped down to a husky whisper. “I am thinking about a lot of things.” 

Louis swallowed hard, ignoring the surge of heat that flared through his body at just that one look – god, he was horny. “I meant with your head, Edward.”

Harry sighed at the use of his middle name – yet another reminder of how little Louis actually knew about him. “I do not believe you’d enjoy being courted by me,” he answered honestly, though now he found himself to be the one to avert his gaze.

Louis pursed his lips and silently cursed Niall for ever putting the idea inside his head – he would have been just fine if he had never gotten his hopes up. “Very well then,” he said, professional but clipped. “Feel free to look around and perhaps Niall can ring you up when you’re done.”

“Wait.” Harry grabbed Louis’ shoulder as he turned to walk away. “Please. I didn’t mean—I’m not saying that I don’t want to court you.”

That was almost worse – like he was saying ‘well, you’re not _un_ desirable’. Just what every omega wanted to hear. “Then what _are_ you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s- well, that it’s complicated.” And that was an understatement.

“Why?” Louis threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Why does it have to be complicated? Is it because I was born unclaimed by an alpha? Or maybe it’s because of my previous bonds. Or maybe I’m just too loud and stubborn and independent to be a considered a good little omega.”

Harry’s eyes softened and his hand moved gently down Louis’ arm. “Is that what others have told you, or is that what I have led you to believe? Because if it is the latter, I don’t believe I could ever forgive myself.”

There were tears stinging at the back of Louis’ eyes, but he held them at bay – he refused to be the one to manipulate someone into a relationship they didn’t want. “This is all new for me, but one day I will learn how to be happy again. And I can get there either with a partner or alone, but it is a long road and I need to know which path I will be taking.” His voice was barely a whisper as he said, “Please don’t come back until you know what it is you truly want.”

***

Harry spent the next several weeks moping around the castle. He kept playing out the same scenarios in his head over and over again, but couldn’t seem to find a road that didn’t lead to disaster. Either he stayed away and let Louis believe that he had been used and discarded without sentiment or affection, or he revealed his true feelings – and true identity – and potentially lost him anyway.

Normal young alphas would go to their fathers to ask for advice on matters of the heart. But the king had been trying to settle him down for years and probably had a list a mile long of potential candidates infinitely more politically strategic to bond with than Louis. And if he even brought the matter up, all he was likely to walk away with was a lesson on how it was easier to learn to love someone when the kingdom was flourishing and at peace rather than pursue a fleeting love only to lose it in the resulting turmoil.

So he decided to the only other person who might be able to provide some insight on his current predicament.

“Are you going to say something, or are you going to continue to wear grooves into the floor?” Anne asked as her son paced around her room for the hundredth time.

Harry paused and looked up at her in surprise, almost having forgotten she was there. “Right. Yes.” He resumed walking his tight circle and wrung his hands together. “I wanted to ask you about… about courting.”

The queen’s eyebrows rose in curiosity – that was not what she was expecting. “Are we speaking in the hypothetical sense, or has someone specific caught your attention?”

Harry stopped and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Both, I suppose. It’s just… you would know better than anyone what it would be like.”

She had never seen him so worked up over someone before and it was difficult to suppress her smile – the early stages of love often tended to bring about feelings of confusion and uncertainty. “What what would be like?” 

“Entering a relationship.” Harry looked down and frowned as he fiddled with the large rings adorning his fingers. “With… someone like me.”

“You mean a smart, handsome, kind young man with the whole world to offer?” she countered, in clear defiance of the disdain in his voice.

“You know what I mean, mother. There are so many restrictions and obligations and expectations. I must endure it because I was born into this world, but I find it difficult to believe that anyone would choose that kind of life.”

“I chose it,” she reminded him.

“We can’t all be as strong as you, mum,” Harry mumbled.

Anne sighed and patted the bench in invitation, which Harry obliged and took the seat next to her. “My boy,” she cooed, wrapping an arm around his waist as he pulled her tight against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and took one of his hands in hers. “Tell me more about this person who might take my place one day.”

Harry talked well into the evening about everything from his first night with Louis down in the cells at Orioch to his last run-in at the apothecary several weeks earlier, strategically leaving out the more graphic and improper bits – as close as he was to his mother, he drew the line at discussing his sexual exploits.

When he was done, he expected some sort of telling reaction out of her – either approval or objection. But instead she just looked thoughtful, which prompted him to ask, “What should I do? I just don’t want to hurt him.”

“The pain that many omegas suffer in our society is not due to the things you might think. It is not alphas or expectations or even the law. Not really. Rather it is the lack of control, the lack of power. The lack of choice.” She looked deeply into her son’s eyes, hoping that he could understand her words even if he could not empathize with them. “Choice is a powerful thing, and something it does not sound like Louis has been allowed much of in his life. I cannot tell you what is in your heart, my love, but if you don’t want to hurt the boy, you simply need to give him the freedom to choose. Always.”

Freedom. Yes, that was what Louis had always longed for, what he now had. And with it he had chosen to be with Harry. Or… Edward.

Harry released a sigh that bordered on a groan. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Not so easy.” Anne grinned and pinched playfully at Harry’s side, causing him to squirm out of her grasp. “You must also give him a reason to keep choosing you.”

***

It had been several weeks since Edward had come into the shop, and Louis was starting to get the feeling that he had his answer rather than that he was still awaiting one. But in that time, he had also started noticing some subtle physical and emotional changes that would have been easy enough to blame on anxiety and stress if there wasn’t a vexing familiarity to it all.

“Can a beta get an omega pregnant?” Louis finally asked one night after dinner at Niall’s, though he very well knew the answer.

Niall scoffed. “Impossible. Pretty sure Emma and I would know by now if it could happen.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively until Emma threw a dish towel at him and Louis pulled a disgusted face. “Why? Did Lady Dunbar come ‘round again claiming otherwise? ‘Cause everybody knows she’s been knocking boots with that troubadour from up north that keeps passin’ through. Everyone ‘cept her husband, I suppose – was he the one asking? Poor guy, thinks he’s makin’ miracle juice or something.”

“Never mind,” Louis mumbled as Niall kept rambling, reassuring himself that he was imagining things and shaking off whatever lingering sense of déjà vu tried to convince him otherwise.

But as Louis’ symptoms worsened over the next few weeks, Niall’s words became like an anchor of reason when all signs pointed to the entirely unreasonable. 

Strong scents made him sick and it was tough to keep food down.

Impossible.

Every inch of his skin was tender and he was exhausted every minute of the day.

Impossible.

His moods shifted with the wind and a small swell was forming just below his belly button.

Impossible, impossible, impossible.

Finally, and despite Niall’s assertion, Louis came to the conclusion that either he really was somehow pregnant or he was losing his damn mind. And he decided it was time to find out which.

“I need a pregnancy kit,” Louis said to Niall just after they’d closed for the day.

Niall looked around the shop, but found it empty and his brows furrowed together. “Who’s it for? I didn’t think we had any home visits scheduled this evening.”

Louis shook his head. “No, _I_ need a pregnancy kit.”

“What? What do you mean? Why would you need a pregnancy kit?”

“To see if I’m pregnant.” Or insane. Louis rubbed at his temples because he had been thinking too long and too hard about this and it was making his head hurt. “Please don’t ask me for an explanation, because honestly, I haven’t got one.”

Niall stared at his best friend for a moment before going behind the counter. He grabbed three glass containers and placed them on the counter. Then he went into the back room and came back with a bottle of clear liquid, which he used to half-fill one of the flasks. He disappeared again and then returned with several other bottles in his arms.

He handed one of the remaining empty glasses to Louis and said, “Hope you’ve been hydrating.”

When Louis had returned from performing his role in the process, he found Niall stooping so that he was at eye level with the cups, using the lines etched into the sides to measure out the correct amount of whatever he was pouring in.

Louis placed his sample next to the other items and stepped back a few paces – he told himself it was to give Niall room to work, but mostly it was just that the chemical smells were making him nauseous. 

Still hunched over, Niall shuffled a few paces to the left so that he could pour some of Louis’ bodily fluids into the flask with the clear liquid. He then fiddled with the other mixture for a few more minutes before finally straightening back up and looking Louis in the eye. “Ready.”

Louis wasn’t sure whether it was a question or a statement, but he nodded anyway.

Niall took a dropper and sucked up a few milliliters of his mixture, hesitating for just a second before squeezing it into the other cup. 

Louis didn’t exactly know what was supposed to happen as Niall picked up the glass and began swirling the contents in a gentle circle, but it started to change color and after a minute the liquid settled into a bright blue hue.

He was about to ask what that meant when Niall sighed and said, “It’s positive.”

Louis promptly spun around and vomited in the sink. Even though it was what he’d expected, deep down what he’d known, he was shaken and disoriented and entirely at a loss because _this was impossible._

“How did this happen, Lou?” Niall asked gently, offering Louis some fresh water. “Whose is it?” When Louis shook his head, Niall pressed, “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”

Louis tried to think rationally, but there was no rational explanation. “The only person I’ve been with is Edward – the lawyer that got me exonerated. You’ve met him; he’s been around to the shop a few times.” Though not much as of late. “He was the one who helped me through my heat, but… but he’s a beta.”

Niall knew what it was for an omega to be in heat – both on a professional level and a personal level. His wife was an entirely different person in heat, doing and saying things that afterward she would swear up and down never happened. “Are you certain? How much of your heat do you remember?”

A dark thought crossed Louis’ mind, but… no, Edward wouldn’t do that to him, would he?

“What are you thinking?” Niall finally asked when Louis had been quiet too long.

“The specifics are a bit fuzzy. I remember Edward, but mostly I remember the need. That desperate, insatiable desire to be fucked and knotted and bred. God, I _wanted_ it. I wanted it so badly, and maybe he gave it to me. Maybe he had his fun and then invited a few of his alpha buddies over to make a quick buck off of me. Maybe—”

“Hey, now,” Niall interrupted when Louis started spiraling, “that’s a pretty big leap. From what I know about Edward – both from what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen with my own eyes – it doesn’t seem like he’d do something like that.”

Louis threw his hands up in the air. “If you have a better explanation, I’d love to hear it!”

“The simplest explanation is most often the correct one.” Niall placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder and waited until his breathing slowed and the wild panic dimmed from his eyes. “I think Edward is the father.” 

Louis blinked at him, waiting for that to make sense. “But- but that’s impossible. You said that’s impossible. You said—“

“I said a _beta_ couldn’t get an omega pregnant.” Niall waited for the pieces to click into place, but apparently Louis was incapable of any more revelations. “And what if Edward isn’t a beta? I mean, did he ever actually tell you he was?”

Louis… had to sit down for a minute. It was all too much and the dizzying swirl of emotions caused his head to spin and his chest to tighten and he wasn’t sure whether he the feeling was like flying or falling.

Niall rushed over when Louis dropped to the floor, but he was more overwhelmed than in danger of passing out. “Think about it, Lou. Alphas aren’t allowed to be lawyers; he’d have to be on scent blockers to even step foot inside the courtroom.”

Louis couldn’t deny the way his body had always responded to Edward – his voice, his touch, even just his presence. Perhaps his inner omega had recognized the alpha in him even if his nose and brain and any good damn sense had overlooked the possibility.

“He lied to me,” Louis concluded, unwilling to make excuses even if Edward had not intentionally misled him. “Either way, however this happened, he lied to me.” A few tears dropped down his cheek and he buried his head in his hands. “God, what am I gonna do?”

There was a long stretch of silence, followed by some shuffling around as Niall got up, then a door opening and some glass clinking and then a rush of air as Niall flopped down beside him. When Louis pulled his face away from his hands he saw that Niall was holding a thin vial of herbs, twirling it gently between his fingers before holding it out for Louis to inspect.

“You can have this if you want,” Niall said quietly. “Pretty sure you know what it does.” It was what most unbonded omegas in Louis’ situation came to him for.

Louis took it and examined the contents more closely. Recognition dawned on him and he fought back the urge to be sick again.

“You’re unbonded now, so you don’t need an alpha to sign for it anymore.”

Louis’ eyes snapped up to Niall’s then, anger displacing the despair. “I don’t know what you think you know about my first marriage, but I never _wanted_ this,” he hissed, tossing the mixture into Niall’s lap and getting hastily to his feet. A little too hastily, apparently, because he swayed in his spot and had Niall popping up to steady him before he collapsed for real.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Niall said, holding on to Louis until he was sure he was steady. “I didn’t mean to imply anything, and you don’t have to decide anything right now, I just- you didn’t plan for this, and I wanted you to know that you have options. If you want.”

Ha.

 _If you want_.

When did Louis ever get what he wanted?

“You wanna stay over at mine tonight?” Niall suggested. He hated leaving Louis alone on a normal day, but now that he was pregnant – fuck, _Louis was pregnant_ – it would feel like downright negligence. “I’m sure Em wouldn’t mind – you’re as much a part of the family as she is.”

There was more to the offer than just a full belly and warm bed for the night, but that was as far into the future as Louis could plan for the moment. And it was as good a plan as any. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

Louis wasn’t sure what being surrounded by all of Niall’s children would do to his mental state, now knowing what he knew – perhaps dread or uncertainty. But instead, being around them filled him with the same joy and wonder and delight it always had, and when he tucked in for the night he felt the slightest bit more hopeful about his situation. He’d always wanted children, after all, and that was well before stupid, _complicated_ Edward came into – and promptly exited – his life.

There would be many judgments and side-eyes thrown his way, but he was not unaccustomed to it already and if his mother always managed to handle herself with grace and dignity, Louis was determined to do the same. And in the end he wouldn’t give a damn because he would finally have a child of his own.

Maybe even one with curly hair and bright green eyes and dimples.

Louis was almost asleep when he was pulled out of his reverie by a frantic knocking at the door.

Niall, despite being further away, was quicker to the door, but Louis was the one to catch the woman that nearly fell into the house upon opening it. She was young and pretty, but thin in the way that was more sickly than trendy. And a thick spattering of blood painted her white dressing gown a dark crimson.

“Easy, easy,” Louis soothed as she gasped and sobbed in his grasp. When Niall pulled over a chair, he gently lowered her to a seated position. “What happened, love?”

“He’s going to kill me,” she wheezed, the sound deep and raspy. “I didn’t mean to, but he wouldn’t stop and I- he’s going to _kill me_!”

Niall had grabbed cloths and a bowl of water to clean away the surface of her skin and assess the damage. “Who?” Her only answer was a whimper as Niall worked to reveal the extent of her injuries. “Shit, did a client do this to you?”

A small cry escaped her lips and Louis began to put the pieces together. “You work at the bordello.”

“For Madame Ygritte,” she nodded.

Of all the Madames in Turroch – and Louis was acquainted with most of them – she was the meanest and most callous. She was a female alpha – rarer than a male omega, but less desirable due to being infertile – and she would do anything to prove her worth to her male counterparts, including letting them abuse the omegas under her care.

“Well you’re alright now,” Niall assured her. “A few cuts and a nasty shiner, but nothing looks to be broken. Don’t know where all this blood came from, though.”

“It’s not mine,” she said, barely more than a whisper.

“It’s not—“ Niall shook his head as he took in this information. “Is someone else about to bust through my door here in a minute, Myra?”

Ah, so this was not the first time she’d come to Niall needing assistance. Louis was beginning to better understand his best friend’s constant concern over his whereabouts. 

She eyed the door warily, as if he might actually come in after her. “I don’t think so.”

After ensuring the kids were calm and locked up tight in their rooms, Emma joined them in the kitchen. She lit a candle and brought it over to the table so her husband could see better as he worked.

“Jesus,” Niall said as the soft glow illuminated the angry red marks wrapping around Myra’s throat. “Looks like he was tryin’ to kill you.”

“I think he might have, if I hadn’t—“ She stopped herself then, her gaze averted as she bit her lip, clearly conflicted about whether saying anything else would just get her into more trouble.

“Hadn’t what, love?” Louis asked, kneeling down to be at eye level with her. “It’s alright, you’re safe here.”

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, even from the one eye that was nearly swollen shut. “I knew he was one of the rough ones. The other girls warned me and I knew, but I needed the money. I hadn’t eaten in days, or maybe weeks. I lost track.”

Louis and Niall shared a knowing look. They both knew what starvation felt like. How it gnawed at you every minute of every day until it was all you thought about. How it could turn desperation into depravity.

“But I couldn’t breathe. I’d already passed out once and I panicked. I grabbed my hairpin and I just,” she mimed a single swift stabbing motion, “right in the eye.”

“You were probably acting on instinct,” Niall said, examining the marks on her neck more closely. “Any tighter and he would have snapped your neck.”

A shudder ran through her, but she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m dead anyway.”

“You have rights too. There are laws to protect unbonded omegas for this very reason,” he tried to console her, but she was trembling from head to toe – partly from adrenaline, but mostly from fear.

“Not ones like me, not when money’s been exchanged.” There was a pause as she gathered her courage. “Not from Lord Blackwood.”

There was a collective intake of breath as this revelation settled over the room. George Blackwood was somewhat of a legend in the kingdom. Decades ago he’d fought alongside the king – before he had become the king – in the War of the Five Rivers against the eastern kingdoms, a victory which secured the trade routes that had enabled Turroch to expand and thrive in his subsequent reign. Blackwood’s service had earned him a seat on the council and the king’s ear on many issues, including the vague laws supposedly protecting the vulnerable populations.

The courts tended to side with alphas anyway, but especially against omegas in this particular industry. Other than the amount of time covered by the contract, Louis didn’t find those arrangements all that different from a marriage – either way, as soon as an omega signed themselves over to an alpha, the alpha was free to do whatever they wanted to them without consequence.

Louis tried to contain his anger as history repeated itself before his eyes – a desperate omega being punished for standing up to an abusive alpha – but he refused to let this girl suffer the same fate as his mother. 

This time would be different.

George Blackwood was still alive. They had physical evidence of the injustice. And, if he managed to put personal feelings aside, he could ask for help from a lawyer that happened to have experience getting wronged omegas off the chopping block.


	7. Prince Harry

Louis wasn’t ready to even see Edward, much less talk to him now that he knew he’d lied to him. Part of him was afraid that he’d look at Edward and just see another arrogant, self-serving alpha who’d hurt him, but he was almost more afraid that he’d look at Edward and see his kindness and passion and strength and the scared lonely _pregnant_ omega in him would just beg to be bonded right then and there.

He thought he’d have at least a little time to bolster his nerves, but Myra had insisted on going back to the brothel just before sunrise and could not be swayed otherwise. Emma wondered loudly why the girl seemed to be more worried about her job than her life, but Emma had been born into a posh family and didn’t understand that for most omegas, they were the same thing. But both Louis and Niall understood that if Myra went back, there was a possibility that Blackwood would return to finish what he’d started, but if she quit… well, she was already on the brink of starvation as it was.

There was little Louis could do to solve the problem that had created this impossible situation in the first place, but Myra? For her, he could make a difference.

Louis set out shortly after Myra and was about half way to the country estate when he realized that it would likely be vacant by the time he got there. Instead of twiddling his thumbs waiting for Edward to come home after work, he decided to make his way to the courthouse – that’s probably where they’d need to end up anyway if Edward decided to take on Myra’s case.

Unsure of the layout of the building – other than, perhaps, the prison – or even what department to start looking in, Louis had to resort to asking around for the lawyer named Edward. Kinder betas simply offered him a confused shrug, but most of the time he was either ignored or invalidated.

But Edward had gotten the king to pardon Louis and execute Richard, so surely _some_ body knew where he was, or had at least heard of him. Then a thought occurred to him.

The king.

Perhaps the reason no one seemed to know where Edward worked was because he didn’t work in this building or with these people at all. Louis wasn’t sure of the specifics, but he was fairly certain there were lawyers that exclusively worked at the palace in service of the council members, ambassadors, even the royal family. It was a long shot, but wandering around the public gardens and art gallery and stables felt more productive than just going back to the house until nightfall. Maybe he would get lucky.

Sure enough, within the hour he found Edward walking in step beside the king. Louis wasn’t stupid enough to try and approach them outright, so instead he sort of trailed along a good distance behind them until the two parted ways and he could approach Edward alone. His observations earned a few curious looks from the various uniformed officers stationed around, but it wasn’t like Louis was doing anything wrong. Suspicious, maybe, but not illegal.

The king then veered off into one of the heavily guarded buildings and left Edward to lean against a pillar, looking as disgruntled and exhausted as Louis felt. He was all the way across the courtyard, and so Louis quickened his pace in an attempt to catch up to him before he went somewhere Louis couldn’t follow. He was almost within earshot when he was grabbed roughly by the collar and immobilized against the wall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a guard asked, giving him a once-over.

All the wind had been knocked out of Louis’ lungs at the sudden impact, so instead of answering he just pointed in Edward’s general direction.

“Yes, I’ve noticed you following them – not exactly subtle, are you? What business do you have with the royal family?”

Louis shook his head and tried to explain between gasps, “Not here… to see… the king.” The guard had Louis’ arm wrenched behind his back and his chest pressed roughly into the stone siding, which didn’t help with the whole trying to breathe thing. “Release me!” To his credit, the guard obliged, and after a few gulps of air and an angry glare, Louis said, “Now if you’ll excuse me,” and again started off toward Edward.

He hadn’t taken two steps before ending up flat on his face on the ground with a knee firmly pressed into his spine.

“What are you doing? Get _off_ me!” Louis cried, struggling futilely against the guard’s massive weight. The helplessness of his position triggered horrible flashbacks to some of the worst moments of his life and, though he was probably just making things worse for himself, he couldn’t help but thrash and wail.

He couldn’t hear anything over his own distress, but after what felt like a lifetime – but in reality was probably only a few seconds – the burden was lifted and Louis could breathe again. Well, he could have if his body wasn’t otherwise occupied with sobbing and shaking and trying to quell a panic attack. There was a pair of arms around him that felt familiar and strong and comforting and Louis knew he was supposed to be angry at him, but god he needed Edward in that moment.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Harry asked, his heart beating almost as quickly as the omega in his arms – it had stopped entirely when the sounds of Louis’ cries reached his ears and the guard was lucky his throat was still intact.

The guard was confused at the rebuke and his apology came out as a question. “I’m… sorry, my lord?” 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked gently as he pulled away just far enough to get a good look at Louis. There was dirt smeared in the tear tracks on his cheeks and Harry wiped it away gently with the pad of his thumb. “Did he hurt you?”

Louis gave himself a mental once-over. His chest was sore and his head was pounding, but that was probably as much from his freak out as the actual restraint. Now that he was in control of himself again, it was much easier to calm down. “M’okay, I think.” He looked up into worried eyes and offered a small smile of reassurance. “Had no idea you were so important.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but the guard snorted in derision. “Do they really teach omegas so little that you don’t know the importance of our future king?”

There was a beat of silence as Harry realized what had just been revealed. “Get. Out,” he ordered between gritted teeth. 

“But Prince Harry, he—“

“Now!” Harry demanded. Liam quickly escorted the palace guard away and took his place by Harry’s side, but it was too late and he began searching Louis’ face for any clue as to how he was taking the revelation.

Louis cocked his head in confusion at the guard’s retreating form. “Prince?” Then, turning to back to those worried eyes that were now teeming with guilt, “Turroch doesn’t have a Prince Edward,” he observed innocently.

Shit. It was going to be bad no matter how Harry decided to break the news to him, but he thought he had time to figure out the least painful way to do so – and Louis having his head shoved into the dirt and basically being called an idiot was certainly not it. Harry had been working up to asking his father to allow a formal courtship, but now he wasn’t sure Louis would ever forgive him. Or that he even deserved it. “I should have told you.”

The silence stretched on as the implications of all of this began to dawn on Louis and stoked the anger he already held toward Ed- Harry. Prince fucking Harry. “That you’re the alpha fucking prince of Turroch? Yeah, I should think so.” Louis hated the way his voice shook, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from rage or terror but either way he had to get the hell out of there.

“Please, let me explain.” Harry tried to help Louis to his feet as he shuffled away, but his hands were shoved away. 

“Are you going to have another guard restrain me if I don’t?” The question was dripping with sarcasm, but there was a kernel of genuine curiosity.

Harry wanted to be offended – it wasn’t like he had given the guard his orders – but he probably deserved it. “Do you really think I’d do that to you?”

“I don’t even know who you are! You seem to become a different person every time we meet.”

The accusation stung – he’d only lied because Louis had a huge chip on his shoulder and was too damn stubborn to accept help – and Harry turned defensive. “And your own pride would have gotten you killed long ago if I hadn’t cared for you enough to do so.”

Louis let out a disbelieving sound that bordered on hysterical. “If you truly cared about me, you would have—“

“What? Would have what? Let you hang in Richard’s place? Freeze to death in that leaky attic?” He leaned in closer so that only Louis would hear. “Should I have left you to go into heat in the middle of the town square?”

Bile swirled at the base of Louis’ throat – a reminder of the consequences of those kindnesses – and he swallowed hard against it. He wanted to be angry – to scream or hit something or crawl into a hole and die – but all he felt was numb. He was sure the humiliation and anger and hurt would come back later, but out of self-preservation learned over many years of abuse, he managed to lock up those emotions to be dealt with in the future. “I am sorry my troubles been such an inconvenience to you, _your highness_ ,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “You shan’t be bothered again.”

When Louis straightened up and began to turn away, Harry reached out to stop him. “Wait, can’t we talk about this?”

“No, we can’t,” Louis said simply, looking pointedly down at the restraining hand Harry had on his shoulder – another silent question as to whether he was actually going to let Louis leave.

“I never wanted to lie to you, Louis, but you cannot make me regret any action that ends up saving your life.” There was still defiance in Louis’ eyes and as much as he wanted to throw Louis over his shoulder and force him to let Harry make this right somehow, Anne’s words echoed in his mind that was not his decision to make and he released his hold. “If you change your mind, I will be waiting for you at the country house tonight,” he offered simply.

Louis expected there to be some catch, but Harry just stepped back and watched him walk away. He’d thought that the further he got the more he could relax, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. Thousands of years of evolution had bred into him the desire to be warm and comforted in that alpha’s arms and walking away caused a physical ache in his bones. But what his stupid body failed to realize was that that alpha was also the biggest threat to him – that Harry was one of the most powerful people in the kingdom and could inflict upon Louis any number of fates worse than the ones he’d saved him from.

“What’d Edward say?” Niall asked when Louis walked back into the shop. “Is he gonna take the case?”

“Fuck!” Louis yelled, shoving his way right back out again. He’d actually forgotten the reason he’d gone to the palace in the first place, which… understandable, given the circumstances. But that didn’t help Myra in the slightest.

“Hey, what happened?” Niall asked, jogging out after him and leaning against the frame of the open door. Noting Louis’ sour and exasperated look, guessed, “He refused? Was it because of who she is, or because of who her client was?”

Louis shook his head – he hadn’t even quite processed what had happened himself, and so certainly wasn’t ready to explain it to Niall. “I’ll just take care of this myself.”

Niall sighed. “And how d’you suppose you’re going to do that? Buy out her contract? You’ve got no money. Offer her a job?” Niall looked back into the empty store. “I can’t exactly afford to hire another person. And even if I could, there’d be another girl just like Myra to take her place. You can’t save everyone, Lou.”

Louis found Niall’s advice particularly ironic, considering the orphanage he and Emma seemed to be running, and spent the rest of the day stocking shelves and cleaning glasses and generally avoiding all interaction with customers – he wasn’t exactly in the best mood, and one annoying customer would likely land him either in tears or in jail.

Maybe Louis was being petulant, but he declined when Niall invited him over for dinner even though he was starving. But when he went up to his loft for the night, every cold jar of food he opened made him want to throw up. So he was an unpleasant mix of hungry and nauseous and restless and exhausted and overall irritated at the state of the world.

And since he had no other ideas for helping Myra, he thought it just as well to inflict some of that irritation back on the person who’d caused it.

The long journey to the rural estate was dark and cold and probably the slightest bit reckless to be walking alone and some of the fire Louis had left with was definitely snuffed out by the time he knocked on the large wooden door.

“The laws protecting omega rights are shit and you need to change them,” Louis said through chattering teeth.

“Did you come all this way by yourself?” Harry asked as Louis swept past him and plopped down by the crackling fireplace to warm up. “That’s dangerous.”

Louis rubbed his hands together vigorously before holding them out to the flames. “Only because alphas can do whatever the hell they want and omegas have to suffer as a result,” he said, twisting Harry’s question toward his own ends.

Harry sat down next to him – probably closer than Louis wanted, but at least resisting the urge to suggest other ways to warm him up. “Have I caused you to suffer?”

“All the alphas in my life have caused me to suffer.” Louis frowned and scooted further away, both from Harry and the fire. “But I have not come here to talk about you and me.”

Harry took the hint and retreated to the chair so that Louis would have full access to the fire as well as his personal space and asked, “Then why are you here?”

Louis pulled his knees to his chest, angling as much of his body toward the heat as possible. “There was a reason I was looking for you this morning, and if it were not a matter of life and death, I wouldn’t be.”

This caught Harry’s attention and his heart shot into his throat. He ignored the careful distance between them and again got to the floor, crouching almost protectively around Louis. “I would never let anything hurt you.”

“Unless you are the one doing it,” Louis muttered. He wanted to be outraged at the sudden closeness – he was still, no pun intended, royally pissed – but Louis actually believed him and that made him feel the slightest bit more forgiving. “But it isn’t my life that’s in danger.” 

At least not yet.

Louis tried to remain impassive and impersonal as he relayed Myra’s story, but he couldn’t help comparing her to his mother – who, he revealed, had worked as a ‘companion’ both in and out of the places like the one Myra came from. Louis just needed him to understand that he knew what he was talking about when he told him about the girl, the conditions in which she worked, and the dangerous situation that had led up to her desperate actions.

“It seems pretty clear that she was acting in self-defense. I can’t imagine that the courts would side with her assailant, even if he was an alpha.” Harry wanted to ask more about Louis’ past – apparently there was so much more about him to know – but was brought up short by Louis’ next question.

“Even if that alpha was Lord Blackwood?”

Harry’s brain halted, replayed the name back again. No, that couldn’t be right. He’d known George Blackwood his whole life. He was… well, not the warmest person in the world, but he couldn’t imagine that the war hero, his father’s friend and confidant, would be capable of such a thing.

“Look, I know Blackwood’s a member of the council,” Louis continued when Harry remained silent, “but he nearly killed this girl. And she’s not the only one. If it’s witnesses you need, he’s got a reputation. Myra might be one of the lucky ones; omegas go missing all the time there and—“

“Wait, just- just hold on a minute.” Harry believed that Louis believed what he was saying, but there had to be another explanation for this. “Are you certain this girl is telling the truth?”

“Why would she lie about this?”

Harry could think of a few reasons. “He has enemies; maybe someone hired her to kill him and when she failed to finish the job, she panicked. Made up this story.”

Louis shook his head – Harry wasn’t there; he didn’t see the terror in her eyes, the bruises on her neck, the resigned grief in knowing that she had likely signed her own death warrant. She wasn’t lying.

“Maybe George is the real victim here.”

Louis’ eyes flashed up in righteous anger. “Just because you only seem to manage the truth when it suits you does not mean others suffer from the same cowardice,” he snapped. “He’s guilty. He hurts people and gets away with it, and now that someone had the courage to fight back she’s going to be the one to pay the price.” 

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t trust Louis; rather, he needed to believe that the people entrusted with his life – his family’s lives and the lives of all the people of Turroch – wouldn’t be capable of such things. “George Blackwood is an honorable man. He wouldn’t do the things you’re suggesting.”

“Don’t make the mistake of equating power with honor.” Louis recognized that look of single-mindedness in Harry’s eyes, but this was not a fight he was willing to concede. “It is the laws in this kingdom – your kingdom – that keep omegas in poverty and then punish us for what we must do to survive. Alphas then use those actions as proof of our inferiority and justification for their continued unilateral authority.” If Harry was going to be king someday, Louis desperately hoped he could understand why this was so important. “It has to stop. Someone has to stop it.”

There was a long stretch of silence where Louis was certain Harry was going to dismiss him – after all, why would he listen to what Louis had to say over what he’d been taught his whole life? – but then Harry said, “My father believes that the right thing is doing what is good for the most people most of the time.” There were many chess metaphors involved in that lesson, he recalled, but Harry had never managed to best him in that particular game. “But my mother’s philosophy was to never forsake the one for the many.” He looked up at Louis then, conflicted. “I have never quite figured out how to balance the two, but I suppose doing one is better than neither.”

As much as Louis didn’t want to, he sympathized with Harry in that – how does one enact positive change using broken people in a failing system? “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t have the kind of power you think I do. At least not yet. I can’t make things better for all omegas, but I can help this one.”

“So you believe her?”

Harry was about to reach out to trace the sharp lines of Louis’ face before thinking better of it. “I believe _you_. So I will do what I can for her.”

“That… means a lot. Thank you.”

There was a long pause as neither knew what to say to each other now that Louis’ official business there had concluded. Louis’ stomach gave an angry growl and he resisted the urge to put a hand there, but it reminded him of exactly why he was still angry at Harry.

And if he stayed there any longer, he might be in danger of forgiving him.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, stepping in front of Louis when he made a move toward the door.

“Home,” Louis said a little testily – he still hadn’t eaten, after all – and took another step to the side.

Harry mirrored Louis’ steps to continue blocking his exit. “Please stay.”

“Is that a request or an order?” Louis asked, folding his arms across his chest and giving Harry an accusatory stare.

“I wouldn’t do that, but it’s not like you would obey it even if it was.” Harry spun to the side ran a frustrated hand through his hair before turning and facing Louis directly. “Look, it is dark and cold and a long way back into town and I know you don’t give a shit about my feelings right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’d feel better if you just stayed here tonight. In your own room, if you wish,” he added at Louis’ incredulous look. “Or, if you insist on going back, at least allow me to accompany you. And not in an overbearing I-need-to-keep-an-eye-on-you kind of way, but rather an I-want-you-to-get-home-safely kind of way.”

Louis suppressed a smirk because he rather liked that the prince of Turroch was stumbling over his words in an attempt to avoid angering him further. But it was only because his feet hurt and it was freezing outside that Louis agreed, “Separate rooms.”

Louis had intended on shutting himself off in the guest room until dawn, but his stomach was deeply protesting that idea. He wasn’t going to get any sleep until he ate, and so he lit a candle and made his way toward the kitchen.

The table was filled with freshly baked bread and pastries and Louis remembered that Harry baked when he was anxious. Although it didn’t make up for anything, at least Louis could be certain that Harry felt guilt over what he’d done.

In the stillness of night, Louis allowed his thoughts to drift. He put a hand to his now overly full stomach and imagined what it would be like to build a life here. Waking up to sweet rolls and orange juice every morning. Half a dozen children running around learning to ride horses and grow tomatoes and then coming inside to read every book in that library and write poetry and dance. Niall could use the land to grow his own medicines and they could help so many people. And Louis could spend every day allowing Harry to replace every horrible, painful memory he had with ones of love and kindness and joy and respect.

It was a beautiful dream, one that nearly brought tears to Louis’ eyes, but it would never be more than just that. Even if Harry would be willing to give up his birthright, Louis would never ask that of him, would never want that. Because as much of a mess as his personal relationship with Harry was, he knew that he was going to do great things for the people of Turroch.

Louis’ bed felt lonelier after the fantasies conjured over his midnight snack. He wanted a taste of that future, to be held and adored and told everything was going to be alright – and he was certain that’s exactly what would happen if he went to Harry’s room and curled up next to him – but it would be just another false and fleeting dream.

And Louis wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to let it go.


	8. Will You Wait For Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a warning that some pretty messed up stuff about Louis' childhood is brought up toward the end of the chapter.
> 
> Second, is this way too long for a single chapter? Yes. But am I too lazy/feeling too guilty about not updating last week to split it up into two? Also yes.
> 
> So... enjoy, my loves! 
> 
> xx

Louis, being the coward that he was, had fully intended on sneaking out early in the morning so as to avoid the possibility of confronting anything – or, rather, any _one_ – he wasn’t ready to face yet. But now that his body was growing another human, it tended to require more sleep and he awoke to a sun-filled room and the smell of cinnamon.

He followed his nose down the hall, across the living room, and into the doorway of the kitchen where Harry was a flurry of activity. It didn’t take long to figure out why – there was a plate of cinnamon rolls already on the table as well as a pan of biscuits in the oven, which Harry was periodically checking on while he juggled the bacon, eggs, and potatoes on the stove.

Louis’ stomach growled in anticipation and he was convinced that Harry’s cooking must be magic because most mornings in recent memory tended to involve a much less pleasant churning in his gut. A pang of wistfulness shot through him as a small piece of the previous night’s fantasy played out before his eyes and he shifted uncomfortably where he stood, causing the floorboards to squeak and alerting Harry to his presence.

“You’re awake!” Harry stirred a bit more moisture out of the eggs before turning down the flames and setting them off the heat. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I… well, I kind of made a bit of everything. I guess I went a bit overboard,” he said in response to Louis’ silence.

No one had ever really cooked just for Louis before, much less an alpha with whom he was still kind of in an argument, and there seemed to be a bit of a knot forming in his throat. “It’s wonderful,” he managed.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Harry asked, doing his best to look contrite.

“No.” Louis sat down at the table, grabbing an orange and picking at the tough skin as he surveyed the impressive array of baked goods in front of him. “But I do think that perhaps you missed your calling in life.”

“It is not missed so long as I get to do it for you.” Harry finished frying up the last of the food before plating everything and joining Louis at the table. The doors to the courtyard were open to dissipate some of the heat from the kitchen and they simply sat and enjoyed the sounds of the morning as they ate. As Louis went in for a second plate, though, Harry sat back and said, “This is nice. Waking up in the same house, making breakfast. I could get used to this.”

Louis had been careful to keep his focus on his food, but looked up when Harry spoke. And wished he hadn’t. God, Harry was beautiful. The light danced off his hair and skin and gave him an almost ethereal angelic glow and he was looking at Louis like he hung the moon and it would be so easy to just pretend that this was real. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be real, and it looked like Louis was going to have to be the rational one. “You know it can’t stay like this.”

“Why not?” Harry pouted, fiddling with a piece of discarded biscuit crust. “I like taking care of you.”

For a moment, Louis couldn’t think of a single damn good reason. But then he remembered why he was even there in the first place. He remembered Myra and his mother and all the omegas just like them that deserved to have someone fighting for them. “I don’t know what it is like to be a prince, but I suspect that you are subject to at least as many rules and expectations as any omega.” Against his better judgment, Louis reached out and wrapped a hand around Harry’s. “You have a responsibility to more people than just me. People that need you.”

The sad, resigned look on Louis’ face didn’t escape Harry’s notice and he concluded, “And you don’t need me.”

It was a statement more than a question, and Louis was glad to not have to answer – he was scared and unsure and overwhelmed and there was no way he could honestly say no. “I’m not naïve enough to believe that we would be bonded one day, I don’t want to be hidden away out here, unable to have a life of my own while living part of a life with you.”

“You deserve more than that.”

Louis looked up at him, brows furrowed. “ _You_ deserve more than that.” The knot was back in Louis’ throat and the longer he stayed here with Harry the longer he wanted to stay – and that was a dangerous place to be. “I should probably go,” he finally found the strength to say.

Of course Harry wanted him to stay, but he still hadn’t quite figured out how to toe the line between telling Louis what he wanted while also allowing Louis to decide for himself what he wanted. He settled for adopting a sort of open door policy. “You know, you can come back anytime you need a proper meal. There’s no proper kitchen in that loft of yours and I worry about how well you’re eating.”

Louis supposed he should have been offended that it was assumed he could not take proper care of himself, but instead he found it sweet and endearing that Harry felt the innate need to provide for him. And it would be all too easy to let him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Harry frowned, but he couldn’t force him to come back. “At least take the rest of this food with you for later. Nobody really stays here but me, and I really only enjoy being here with you so if you don’t take it, it’s just going to go to waste.”

It was a pity that such a beautiful house went mostly unused when there were so many struggling. Louis’ thoughts wandered back to Myra – how she and everyone she worked with could probably live fairly comfortably here – and he almost felt guilty for refusing Harry’s offer to live there. If not for his own sake, then at least for his child’s. Their child’s.

“Louis?” There was a tangible sorrow in the air and Harry knelt by Louis’ chair so that he could get a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

All Louis wanted was to fall forward into Harry’s arms, to believe in impossible futures filled with home-cooked meals and children’s laughter and the certainty that he would never want for anything again. “I only wish things were different.” Before Harry could promise anything stupid, Louis added, “But I really do have to go.”

The shop was empty when Louis finally made his way through its doors and Niall’s expression alternated between sourness and curiosity as he sniffed the air and jogged over to him.

“You disappeared again,” he said in accusation, snatching the bags of food and poking through their contents. “This don’t make up for worrying me half to death last night,” he mumbled around a mouth full of pastry. “Where’d you get this? S’even better than Emma’s cooking.”

“I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

“You wouldn’t dare – that’s a fire-able offense.” When Louis continued in his silence, Niall prompted, “Where ya been, Lou? Did you go see Edward?” he guessed. As soon as the name left his mouth, tears welled in Louis’ eyes and – in a true display of concern – he set the food aside in order to take hold of his best friend. “Hey, hey, s’gonna be alright.”

It was a relief for Louis to finally be able to discuss the reality of his situation, and he didn’t hold back. He told Niall all the details from being arrested to his time in prison to going into heat to when he showed up at the shop. He told him about all the people the father of his child pretended to be and then who he actually was. He told him about how he’d asked for help for Myra and Harry had asked him to stay and he’d actually _wanted_ to stay, and…

“There’s just no way this ends well, Niall. He cannot court me, he certain can’t _bond_ with me; do you really think they’ll be okay letting the prince of Turroch’s child run around loose in the kingdom, even if it is unclaimed? You know nothing stays secret forever. If we’re lucky, they’d keep us locked up in the dungeons of that palace of theirs.”

Niall snorted. “That’s the lucky option?”

His best friend may not understand the gravity of the situation, but Louis knew the lengths to which alphas were willing to go in order to hold on to whatever was most important to them – their money, their reputation, their power. “I would consider lucky any scenario in which we are allowed to live.”

“I think you are forgetting a third option,” Niall said. One that didn’t end in imprisonment or death. “What if the two of you fall madly in love and you become his royal consort and you send all your royal subjects to the best apothecary practitioner you know and then everybody lives happily ever after?”

Louis did not particularly appreciate anyone else adding fuel to his own foolish fantasies. “I do not have the luxury of being an optimist.”

When he started toward the stairs to his room, Niall asked, “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means I am going to go pack a bag. Because if I am going to disappear, I want it to be of my own volition.”

***

After Louis left him that morning, Harry was consumed by thoughts of any scenario in which he and Louis could be together. He dutifully sat through all the meetings his father attended – trade negotiations with foreign ambassadors, strategy sessions with military commanders, an open quorum that allowed the people of Turroch to voice their complaints directly to the king – and through all of these he could not stop thinking of Louis. It wasn’t until the meeting with the advisors that his focus shifted.

Because George Blackwood walked in sporting a new eye patch.

The official story was that he’d lost it in a hunting accident, but the fresh scratch marks across the rest of his face suggested otherwise. It was hard to reconcile the strong, wise alpha from Harry’s memory with the monster he supposedly was today and Harry tried to look past his own bias to see what an omega would see when they looked at him. What Louis would see. 

A tall, muscular build that belied his age. Cold, indifferent eyes and a haughty posture that demanded respect and obedience. A patchwork of glittering scars that hinted at a violent past and a hand always on the dagger in his belt that implied he was always ready for more.

He didn’t intimidate Harry – although that was, perhaps, his own arrogance – but he could see why others would fear a man like Lord Blackwood.

When Harry followed the king into his study after having been by his side the whole day, he became suspicious of his son’s intentions. “I don’t suppose you’ve come here to discuss the pros and cons of expanding the sugar trade presented by Ambassador Rossi?”

Harry was being baited, and he responded with sufficient sarcasm. “So they can leverage the newfound demand to raise the price for every other kingdom and embitter our allies against us while they amass their wealth?”

Alright, so the king was the slightest bit impressed. “So you were paying attention.”

“I pay attention to the things that matter,” Harry said, waving off the partial compliment. “And right now, that matter is within our own house. I presume you took notice of Lord Blackwood’s new eyewear?”

Des hummed in confirmation. “Hunting accident.”

“So he says.”

The king raised his eyebrows. “I have no reason to believe otherwise. Things happen during a hunt; perhaps you’d understand if you’d ever bothered to go with us.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. Perhaps he could have been convinced to hunt if it had been to put food on the table, but his father and his friends had always gone for sport – killing large animals just so they could mount their heads on the wall and gloat about what a superior species they were for shooting an unsuspecting animal from up on a far away horse. “He is not without vices.”

“If you have something to say, I suggest you get to the point sooner rather than later.”

Perhaps it was not very diplomatic of him, but Harry was not going to sugar coat things. “His sexual proclivities are violent and dangerous and he abuses his position to avoid the consequences. It is unacceptable.”

Des frowned, stroking his beard in a rare display of distress. He had seen the man’s bloodlust in battle, knew that it was difficult to curb once the fighting was over, but it had been many years since the war had ended and it was hard to believe that fire was still smoldering inside. “No one has come forth with a complaint against him.”

“Why would they? What good is the word of a destitute omega against a powerful alpha for whom the king himself would vouch?”

The king’s jaw clenched; if this was true – and deep down, he highly suspected it was – there was more to consider than just an acceptable punishment. George had fought for this kingdom and then helped shape it into what it was today. He had a lot of friends, people who would defend and protect him, and if this wasn’t handled properly he could be looking at a coup or downright mutiny. So perhaps he was a bit terse when he said, “I’ll look into the matter.”

Harry scoffed. “That’s what you always say when you’re dismissing someone. But there’s a reason omegas learn early not to walk alone at night or speak out in a way that could offend someone or wear things that could be considered arousing and it’s such a waste of effort when we could just be teaching alphas that they can’t do whatever the fuck they want. And get away with it. Justice is deserved by all people, not just those _you_ see as valuable or acceptable.”

“I give everything I have every day for the people of Turroch and nothing means more to me than the integrity of the future of this kingdom. Now I’ve said I’ll look into the matter, and that is what I’m going to do.” 

His father’s tone suggested that that particular topic was now closed for discussion, but there was something else Harry wanted to bring up. “Speaking of the future… I would like to begin a formal courtship. I’ve spoken to mother about it, and she—“

“Yes, she informed me of your recent… activities.”

Well, Harry should have assumed as much – she had been a queen longer than she’d been his mother and his choice of mate would certainly affect her legacy. “I know Louis would be an… unconventional choice, but he has a strong will and a good heart and I genuinely think Turroch would benefit from his leadership.”

“And you care for him, do you not?” There was no answer, which the king took as confirmation. “What if he cannot produce an heir? He has had two bondmates and still has yet to bear a child.” Again his son was silent, so he continued, “He is unclaimed and uneducated and unqualified and I cannot allow this fling to develop into anything deeper.”

Harry refrained from telling his father it was a little too late for that, and instead called him out for his prejudice. “I don’t care about any of that! And neither should you, and yet you judge him based on a past that was largely out of his control.”

“I know you think me unreasonable, but this is for the best.” Des was more tired than angry when he explained, “My issue is not with the boy – if he has earned your genuine affection, I am certain he would make a fine partner. And if you were anyone else, I would be more than happy to give you my blessing.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“You are a prince, Harry. Perhaps it is my own fault for allowing you to take certain liberties in your youth, but your future does not belong to you alone. Your choice of bondmate will affect every person under your rule, and their wellbeing is your highest priority.”

“That’s easy for you to say – you got to marry mum.”

“And we hated each other when we first got married.”

Harry had to replay those words back in his head because the last time he checked, his parents were more in love than any other bondmates he knew. “What do you mean?”

This wasn’t a story Des liked to publicize – people craved stability and a volatile relationship would not have instilled much confidence. “We were losing a war and her kingdom had a fleet of ships. It ended years of constant miserable fighting, and I am fortunate for where we are now, but make no mistake – our union was one of necessity.”

His father’s argument sounded a lot like Louis’ had that morning and Harry hated that neither of them were on his side. “Father, please. I understand that you did what you felt you had to, but the war is over. I-I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me; can’t I have just this one thing – one thing that would make me truly happy?”

As a father, that was all Des wanted; but as a king, it was the one thing he couldn’t give. “If you desire a companion, that can be arranged.”

Harry knew what that meant, but he didn’t want to be with Louis just because he was lonely. “So it makes no difference what I want? How I feel?”

The king rose to his feet so he could be at eye level with Harry. “There is a reason they say ‘heavy is that head that wears the crown’. It requires the wearer to sacrifice everything – his time, his selfishness, his future. And yes, even his heart.” It gave him no pleasure to hurt his son this way, but it was for the best. “You will understand one day, when you are king.”

Harry shook his head, turning away in an effort to compose himself. He was going to just leave without another word, but looked back one last time to say, “What good is a king if he is stripped of all the things that give him his humanity?”

Harry closed the door behind him with slightly more vigor than necessary and leaned heavily against the wall. He stayed there a moment before sliding down and sitting on the floor, looking every bit as defeated as he felt.

“My lord?” Liam inquired, kneeling down beside him.

“M’fine,” Harry said, waving off his concern. 

Liam had heard everything – for accomplished diplomats, the Styles were pretty shit at subtlety and nuance – but hewas smart enough not to say anything about it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Well, there was nothing Harry could do about Louis at the moment, but there was another omega’s future that was depending on him. “It’s Liam, isn’t it?” An affirmative nod. “How would you like to accompany me to a brothel?”

***

Madame Ygritte was a harsh looking woman – lips constantly pursed in either displeasure or suspicion and no curves to soften her boxy figure. Although Harry wasn’t recognized as the prince when he walked through her door, the Madame immediately pegged him as a potential well-bred and well-funded alpha client and wasted no time in sashaying her way over to him.

“What can I do for you, my lord?”

Harry tried not to bristle at her seductive tone – he wasn’t a fundamentalist by any means, but personally had no interest in bedding another alpha, especially one who regularly allowed those under her care to be taken advantage of in exchange for financial gain. “I was actually looking for someone in particular.”

She raised her overly sculpted eyebrows at him. “Surely you’ve never been here before. I’m certain I would have remembered such a handsome face as yours.”

Harry took a step back when she reached a hand out under the guise of fixing his shirt collar. “She actually comes highly recommended by a friend of mine. Lord Blackwood?”

“George sent you to me?” Madame Ygritte took a step back – her body revealing the anxiety her practiced expression disguised. “I was under the impression our accounts were settled.”

The mask slipped long enough to show a flicker of fear and Harry was left with even more questions and the sinking feeling that perhaps he was too late. Instead of showing his cards, Harry feigned ignorance about what happened a few nights ago. “I was supposed to come to town a few weeks ago but my trip got delayed.” She still looked wary of his explanation, so Harry went on to threaten to take away the one thing she cared about. “But if you cannot accommodate my needs, perhaps I will seek out other options.” He turned to leave for dramatic effect, and Madame Ygritte called after him.

“Wait! Of course any friend of George’s is welcome here anytime. You said he recommended someone in particular? That must be Katrina then. Katrina,” she squealed over her shoulder, calling a young blonde waif to her side, “you have a new customer.” The girl smiled shyly up at Harry until Madame Ygritte added, “He is an associate of Lord Blackwood.”

Harry had expected fear or anger, but instead Katrina shut off completely – he body stiffened and her eyes went blank and she became like a living doll. That’s probably how she was treated most of the time, and it took everything Harry had not to just hoist her over his shoulder and carry her out of this place never to return.

Later, he still might.

“Will she do?”

Harry moved around Katrina slowly, as if inspecting her. When he got close enough for only her to hear, he whispered, “Do you know where Myra is?” She didn’t answer, but she flinched at the name and Harry knew she had information. “She’ll do,” Harry said to Madame Ygritte.

The Madame eyed Liam suspiciously. “The fee for two is doubled.” She mistook the reason behind Harry’s disgust and said, “Alright, one and a half. But only because George has been such a loyal customer – and I hope you will be as well.”

When Madame Ygritte left to draw up the paperwork, Harry asked Katrina, “Where is she? Where’s Myra?” Katrina shook her head and Harry asked, “You don’t know? When was the last time you saw her?” He didn’t want to sound threatening, but they didn’t have long. “Tell me.”

“I… don’t know,” she whimpered, though that was clearly a lie.

Harry forced down his frustration and adopted a softer, calmer tone. “Katrina.” The girl’s eyes went wide at the use of her name – perhaps no one else ever bothered. “I’m not going to hurt you. Or her. I just want to know where she is.”

She looked at him curiously, then – if he was one of Blackwood’s men, he would already know what happened to Myra. “Why?”

”I can’t help her if I can’t find her.”

“You… want to help her?” She sounded confused. “But… Blackwood.”

“I know what he did to her. And I also know she did what she had to in order to stay alive. I want to make sure she stays that way.” There was a long silence and Harry wondered if her indecision was out of fear for her own life. “You can come too, if that—“

“No,” Katrina interrupted. “I can’t leave. These girls are the only family I’ve ever known and I can’t leave them behind to get punished for my gain.” She looked up at Harry then, a different kind of sadness in her eyes. “You can’t save all of us.”

This girl was willing to give up everything – her chance for safety, freedom, autonomy, life – just to spread the suffering around in an attempt to lessen its devastation, and Harry was tired of so many having to sacrifice so much for the benefit of so few. “One day things will be better; I will make them better,” he vowed, unable to do much else. “Tell me where Myra is.”

Maybe Katrina saw the truth in his eyes, or maybe she was just too tired and afraid to oppose him, but eventually she said, “Myra’s gone.”

***

Almost two weeks went by without another word from Harry, and Louis was beginning to think he had overreacted by packing up a “go bag” and preparing to flee at a moment’s notice. But then there was a knock on the door after hours and suddenly Harry was just _there_ right in front of him and Louis’ fight or flight mode kicked into overdrive and instead of doing anything he was frozen in place.

Harry almost smiled at Louis’ comically surprised expression and had to remind himself that Louis was still upset with him and would probably not appreciate being pulled into his arms. “I found out what happened to Myra,” he said before Louis came to his senses enough to slam the door in his face.

“What?” Louis’ mind was apparently short-circuited by what his eyes were seeing and it took a minute to replay Harry’s words in his head. It was an odd way of phrasing things, which prompted Louis to ask, “Is she… is she dead?”

“As far as Lord Blackwood and her Madame are concerned, yes.”

It was starting to snow and there was a dusting of white on Harry’s head and shoulders. “Come in, come in.” He pulled Harry inside and found a shorter, burlier man standing behind him – he looked familiar, having appeared in the background of many of his memories with Harry, and only then did it occur to Louis that the prince of Turroch probably had his own protection detail. “You don’t have to stay out there,” he said, leaving the door open for him.

Liam looked to Harry, who shrugged, and then followed them both into the shop. As Louis and the prince started toward the stairs, though, Liam called after them, “I’ll just wait down here.”

Other than Niall, Louis had never taken anyone up to his room – his home – much less royalty, and he was a bit insecure about the quality of his living conditions. “Ehm, you can have the chair,” he said, gesturing to the one in the corner while he lit the candles around the room.

Harry accepted the offered hospitality, pleased to note that the space was filled with things he had given to Louis. “Thank you,” he said, flicking at the dog-eared pages of one of the books.

Louis finished his task and sat down on the rug in front of Harry – there was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t, and so he started with the reason he’d come. “Tell me what happened to Myra.”

Harry told Louis about his visit to Madame Ygritte and what Katrina had revealed to him. He never did find out the exact series of events that transpired between the Madame’s greed and Blackwood’s fury, but “left for dead” was the phrase Katrina had used and Harry could see why she was so certain they’d succeeded. Myra had been half-buried in a remote field, her skin cut and bruised and swollen and limbs twisted into awkward angles and covered in grass and dirt. It scared him half to death when her chest spasmed and a painful wheezing cry escaped her lips, but she was a fighter and Harry was able to get her to the palace physicians in time to save her life.

“Is she there now?” Louis asked, trying to refrain from fawning over Harry’s heroics.

Harry shook his head. “She woke up a couple days after I found her. She was sobbing – I think she thought I intended to keep her as my own personal companion.” He frowned at the thought – it was not unheard of, or even uncommon, but he found the practice particularly distasteful. 

“It’s been weeks. I thought—“ Well, Louis didn’t quite know what he thought. “Where is she?”

“I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to come to you, but I could not guarantee her safety in the palace and didn’t want to leave her until other arrangements could be made. My sister has graciously offered to bring her on staff. She’s married to a foreign dignitary and lives on the southern coast; Myra will be able to start fresh there.”

“You… gave her a job?”

“I would have preferred to give her justice, but that problem cannot so easily be fixed. It is the least I can do to try and give this one omega a chance at a better life.”

“It’s more than anyone else has ever done for her.” Louis watched the internal anguish play out across Harry’s face – he truly was devastated at his own futility against the very forces that had given him his power. “You’re going to make a great king one day.”

Harry supposed that was meant as a compliment, but he was starting to view it as a curse. He looked away then, to keep his displeasure from falling on anyone but himself, which was when he noticed a bag stuffed full of clothes next to the bed and a sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t suppose that means you’ve changed your mind about moving into the country house with me?” he asked, nodding toward the pack.

“I have not.” He almost wanted Harry to object, to pick a fight or demand he didn’t go – it would make his decision that much easier. “It will be easier for both of us to move on this way.”

“I don’t want to move on.” Harry’s chest tightened with a pain that only Louis seemed to bring about. “I know I have been dishonest with you about many things, but how much I care for you is not one of them. And I am not asking for your forgiveness, I am simply asking for a chance to make things right.” He joined Louis on the floor and waited until their eyes met. “I can’t do that if you’re gone.”

Louis shook his head, the ghosts of things that could have been taunting him through Harry’s pleas. “It’s too late – you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“There are a lot of things I don’t know,” Harry continued, undeterred. “I don’t know what I can do to earn back your trust. I don’t know what I can do to convince my father that you are smart and loyal and _good_ for this kingdom. I don’t know what I can do to make things better for you or any other omega. I don’t know how to do any of those things, but I promise you I will. I will find a way. I just need time.” He shuffled on his knees toward Louis, who mirrored his movement in the opposite direction. “I don’t have any right to ask anything of you, but I just need to know… Louis, will you wait for me?”

The speech belonged in one of the many romantic books that Harry had given him, and if this were one of those stories then Louis would gladly fall into his arms and await his happily ever after. But this was real life – real, shitty, cruelly ironic life – and time was the one thing Louis didn’t have to give. “I can’t.” The resulting silence was unbearable, and finally Louis asked, in barely more than a whisper, “Are you going to let me go?”

They both knew that Harry could stop him if he wanted – he was the goddamn prince, after all, and had a literal dungeon he could lock Louis up in. But Harry didn’t want that. All he’d ever wanted to do was protect Louis, but in the end he’d been the one to hurt him most. So it was the truth when he said, “I want you to stay, Louis, but only if that’s what you want too.” He closed the distance between them then, taking Louis’ hand and placing it on his chest. “If you decide to leave, I won’t try to stop you. But please know that you’ll be taking my whole heart with you.”

Louis closed his eyes and felt the steady thump of Harry’s heartbeat beneath his palm – it was such a contrast to his own frantic pulse. He took four deep breaths, and with each one came a new revelation.

One – Louis didn’t really want to leave the only friend he had and the only home he’d ever known.

Two – But staying meant that Harry would inevitably find out about the baby.

Three – Either way, Harry needed to understand that this decision was a matter of life or death.

And four – Harry would never understand unless Louis told him about Charles.

Louis withdrew from Harry’s grasp and wrapped himself tightly in the folds of his heavenly soft blanked. “I was married once before Richard,” he began, though Harry knew this already. “It was the fourth year of the famine. None of my sisters could remember what it felt like to have a full stomach and we would not have survived another winter, so my mother made a deal with a nobleman named Charles Drapier.”

“You were only 13,” Harry recalled, unable to keep his tone entirely neutral.

“She had no other choice.” Louis felt the need to defend this point – it was the only thing that made his suffering tolerable. “It was supposed to be more of a betrothal than a marriage – our bonding agreement stated that we would maintain separate beds until I was older.” Louis pulled his knees up to his chest and fought the urge to bury his head between them. “That lasted exactly until my first heat.”

Harry swallowed against the bile threatening to come up his throat at the thought of Louis as a child, scared and in pain and away from everything he’d ever known and then being taken advantage of in the worst possible way by the person who was supposed to protect you most. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he managed to say, though it felt like far too little to offer.

Louis nodded, and a few tears slipped out from his eyes despite his determination to get through this without breaking down. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought- I thought if I told anyone, if anyone found out, it would void our contract and my family would starve.”

And Harry knew, better than most, just how much Louis was willing to endure for the sake of his family. Wanting to be close to him without invading his personal space, Harry moved forward so that he was parallel to Louis’ body – there he was able to see the now steady streams falling down his cheeks and was surprised that Louis’ voice was able to remain so steady when he spoke again.

“But then I got pregnant.” He heard Harry suck in a breath at this, and he had to get the rest of this out before he lost the ability to do so. “When I told Charles, I thought he was happy. We had dinner together that night, just the two of us, and he gave me this special tea.” The very same tea that Niall had offered him weeks earlier. “I thought he was happy, but then… that night I started cramping and bleeding and I knew—” The words got stuck in his throat and he had to swallow harshly before he could continue. “I cried for weeks after that. I thought I had done something wrong.”

“Fuck, Lou—“

“I miscarried three more times before I realized that he was the one doing it to me. God, I was such an idiot.”

“You were a child, Lou.”

Louis shook his head. “I still should have known. But the last time- the last time I knew better. I hid the pregnancy for as long as possible, so when he found out and tried to give me the tea again, it didn’t work. I was so proud of myself, I didn’t realize what lengths Charles was willing to go to protect his reputation.”

There was a long pause where Louis didn’t say anything, but Harry had to know. “What did he do to you?”

More tears eked out as memories that Louis had long since buried all came flooding back at once. “He, ehm—“ Louis had never told this to anyone, and it was even more difficult than he thought it would be. “He threw me down the stairs. To start. To make it look like an accident. And then while I was down, he gave me a few hard kicks,” Louis unfurled enough that he could point to his stomach, “right here. Just for good measure.”

“No,” Harry gasped in genuine horror.

“I tried- I fought back. But that just gave him a reason to hit me back harder and he got what he wanted anyway. I never even got to feel the baby move. I never—“

There was more to the story – how all of his tied in with his mother and his second marriage and the bag of clothes by his bed – but the weight of Louis’ past came crashing down on him and all he could do was look at Harry with helpless anguish. 

Harry didn’t know what he could or should do, but Louis didn’t seem to object when he pulled him into his lap and rocked him gently as he wept. He found himself apologizing over and over again on behalf of every transgression of every alpha that had ever caused Louis pain, including himself, but all that seemed to do was make Louis weep harder.

Eventually, once his body had wrung itself dry, Louis regained control of his body. And even though he was exhausted and his head throbbed and his lungs burned, he found the strength to pull himself out of the arms that had been holding him together.

“Harry.” It was the first time Louis had called him by his actual name, and it had the intended effect – what he was about to say was important. “I can’t go through that again. I can’t.” It was not an exaggeration – he wouldn’t survive the loss of another child. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. And I can leave – you never have to see me again and I won’t tell anyone who the alpha is.” He crossed his legs and wrapped his arms protectively around his midsection. “I just want my baby to live.”

“Your… baby?” There was no response, but Harry very much needed to know. “Louis, are you pregnant?” A weak nod, followed quickly by more tears. “And it’s… mine.”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Louis nodded again anyway. He got on his knees and lowered his head in a gesture of submission and supplication, as if he was begging for his life. In a way, he was. “Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

At first Harry was shocked – when had he ever given Louis reason to believe he’d hurt him? But then it all clicked into place, why Louis told him about those awful years with Charles. Why Louis had been avoiding him. Why Louis was currently _afraid_ _of_ him.

Though Harry had never laid a hand on Louis, he had betrayed his trust. On multiple occasions. Of course Louis would expect the worst – because if some third-rate nobleman had gone to such lengths to bury his secrets, what more would the prince of Turroch do? Louis had never known what it was like for an alpha to treat him with respect, with kindness. With love.

And now Harry was going to be a father. He was going to be a father and Louis believed that involving Harry was more risky than choosing to be a single omega parent away from everyone and everything he’d ever known.

It was absolutely ridiculous and made absolutely perfect sense and Harry absolutely had to fix this.

It was a good sign that Louis allowed Harry to gingerly pull him into his arms and lay him on the bed, but when he reached out a hand toward Louis’ midsection, he cried out and curled in on himself in alarm. Harry immediately pulled his arm back and felt a familiar pressure behind his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d had allowed himself to cry – his father saw it as a sign of weakness and firmly discouraged the behavior until it had stopped – but Louis was brave enough to be vulnerable and made Harry want to do the same.

“Please don’t go,” Harry finally said, wringing his hands together just to give them something to do. “I understand why you feel like you have to, but… I’d never hurt you.” He looked up into Louis’ eyes and felt the warm, salty drops gather and fall from his long lashes. “I’d never hurt our child.”

Finally, Louis couldn’t bear it anymore. He had felt so alone for so long and maybe Harry was lying again but it was a lie Louis wanted – no, _needed_ – to believe. He forced himself to straighten back out and then, slowly and carefully, took Harry’s trembling hand and guided it to his belly.

Everything stopped. 

The tears, his heart, even time itself, it all stopped when Harry molded his long fingers over the little bump where his son or daughter was growing and what had just seemed so complicated and confusing felt so simple now because his entire world was in the palm of his hand and nothing else mattered. Nothing but this man and this baby. He would do anything for them, but he needed Louis to believe that too or he was going to lose them forever.

Harry ghosted his lips over Louis’ abdomen before working his way up to his lips and kissing him deeply and thoroughly, pulling back only when Louis was breathless and bewildered. He placed Louis’ hand over his heart again – a reminder of who it truly belonged to – and said the only two words his mind had been able to produce in response to everything he was feeling.

“Marry me.”


	9. A Royal Engagement

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” Louis bolted to an upright position and squinted at Harry’s grinning face like he was a mirage because surely what he thought had just happened didn’t just happen.

“I want this,” Harry said, gesturing in the general direction of Louis’ midsection. “I want you, and I want this. With you.” 

Louis’ head was spinning because of all the possible futures he’d imagined for himself – all of the ways this could have gone very, very wrong – this was not a scenario he’d considered. “But we can’t—you can’t just _marry_ me!”

“Of course I can.” Harry noted that he looked more terrified than excited and it occurred to him that Louis’ view of marriage and bonding was probably quite different than his own. “If- well, if that’s something you want too.” Harry gave a pointed glance to the bag of packed clothes still propped up beside the bed. “Or we could leave, together. Get out of town and live our lives the way we want to, away from anyone else’s plans or expectations.”

As tempting as that sounded, leaving problems behind was not the same as solving them and Louis’ had a tendency of catching back up with him sooner or later. “We can’t just leave everything behind,” he reasoned.

But they both knew that that had exactly been Louis’ plan before Harry factored back into the picture. “You mean _I_ can’t.”

“If I’d decided I was going to use that, I never would have told you about the baby.” Louis felt slightly guilty about the look of hurt in Harry’s eyes at that thought, but it was the truth and he reached out to cup Harry’s face in what he hoped what was a reassuring gesture. “But I did. I trusted you with the truth because I didn’t want to leave, and I don’t think you want to either. Not really.”

The idea that Harry would never see his sister again, or that his mother and father would never meet their grandchild or know what happened to their son, was devastating. But not so much as the idea of losing Louis or the life they could have together. “But I would. For you, I would do anything.”

Louis believed him, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit. He withdrew his hand, resisting the urge to trace his fingers along Harry’s neck and twist into his hair and pull him close and keep pretending like they were the only two people in the world – if they were, this would all be much simpler. “Whether we leave or whether we stay, the choices we make don’t just affect us. We both have a responsibility now to make the best choices not just for ourselves, but for the ones entrusted to our care, and we shouldn’t allow how we feel temporarily in this moment be the thing that makes that decision for us.”

Harry could almost laugh at how well Louis would probably get along with the king. “You think my responsibility as a prince is more important than my responsibility as a father? Because I never asked for any of that; I don’t care about any of it.”

“But I do.” The confusion on Harry’s face became blurry as Louis’ eyes clouded over with unshed tears. “You were born with the power to make a difference, and though it may not feel like it sometimes, that is a gift – one that should not be thrown away lightly.”

Harry sighed and put a hand on Louis’ waist, brushing his thumb across the crest of his hip – Louis was right, of course, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still an option. “We really have made quite a mess of things, haven’t we?”

The corner of Louis’ mouth quirked up because wasn’t that the understatement of the century. “Come here,” he said, lying down and pulling Harry next to him, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair just to give them something to do. “We’ll figure it out.”

Harry was quiet for a long moment before he finally voiced aloud the thought that had been nagging at him ever since Louis had derailed the conversation away from the topic of bonding. “You never answered my question.”

Louis tugged a little more forcefully at the curls gliding over his knuckles. “I thought we’d agreed not to make any more irrational decisions.”

“Being spontaneous isn’t the same as being irrational.” When Louis continued avoiding his proposition, Harry prompted, “Alright, so if I ask again in the morning – after I’ve had the whole night to think about it – will you give me an answer then?”

“You’re still going to be Prince Harry of Turroch in the morning, are you not?” It was kind of a joke, but also kind of not based on Harry’s previous suggestions about running away. “It doesn’t matter what my answer would be because you’re not even technically allowed to ask.” At least that’s what Louis had surmised based on what he knew about the legal and political arrangements that preceded such pronouncments – none of which, he was certain, Harry had performed.

“But if I could—“

“But you can’t,” Louis interrupted testily, increasingly worried that he might have to actually give an answer. “You can’t because we aren’t even supposed to be together. You weren’t even allowed to court me, but now you expect me to believe that suddenly everyone is going to be okay with a fucking marriage proposal?”

Harry ignored the reprimand in his tone – it was not really directed at him – and twisted his head so that he could look up into Louis’ eyes. “But if I could ask – and believe me, I will find a way to do it properly – I need to know… would you say yes?”

Louis wanted to say that there was no point in talking about hypotheticals because there was no way to know what was going to happen, but that would be a lie. Because Louis knew what he would say. He knew because even now, despite who Harry was and how messy and unlikely and irresponsible it would be… he still wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with him. And, because some irrationally hopeful part of him believed that was still possible, he whispered, “Yes.”

“Good to know.” It was still just a theoretical yes, but Harry took it to mean that when he asked – which, one way or another, would be sooner rather than later – he had his answer. He pressed his lips to Louis’ cheek and then left a line of kisses down his neck, shoulder, chest, until finally ghosting gently over the crest of his stomach. “May I?” he asked almost shyly, tugging lightly at the hem of Louis’ shirt.

The tenderness and care with which Louis was being handled almost brought him back to tears, so he just offered a nod and pulled up his shirt a few inches. Harry’s eyes widened as his fingertips explored the unfamiliar swell, his own eyes sparkling in wonder and disbelief as they trailed back and forth across the little bump over and over again. How anyone could see omegas as anything other than incredible was beyond him because all Harry wanted to do was stay by Louis’ side and watch as this magic happened before his eyes.

Louis didn’t know what to make of the way Harry was looking at him, he just knew he never wanted Harry to stop looking at him that way – like he was the most precious thing in the world. In _his_ world. For the first time, he understood what people meant when they talked about how alphas and omegas were meant to be together – not that they needed each other because one was strong and one was weak, but rather that they both had strengths and weaknesses and that they complemented each other.

“For the record, I want this too. With you,” Louis stuttered out, causing Harry’s grin to widen. “Whatever that means.”

He just hoped it didn’t mean disaster.

***

The next day, Louis insisted that they both go to work – both because he needed a distraction and because Harry probably shouldn’t piss off his father when he was about to make such a monumental request – and Harry reluctantly agreed. So Louis stayed in the shop while Harry went off to meet with trade representatives and work with the treasurer to plan the next month’s expenditures and even spar with Liam for a while to get out any nervous energy – he needed to be as calm as possible if he wanted to convince the king to allow Louis to join their family.

Not that he didn’t have a backup plan, should his majesty remain a relentless hard-ass, he just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If there was enough time, Harry was certain his own stubbornness on the matter could outlast his father’s, but he and Louis were on a bit of a deadline – without legally bonding before their child was born, Harry would not be able to claim it as his own. So instead, Harry went with the direct approach.

“I am going to bond with Louis,” he said, walking into his father’s chambers just as he was getting into bed – maybe if he was tired, he’d give up more easily. “He is good for me and good for this kingdom, which I will be more than happy to prove to you if given the chance.”

The king paused and audibly let out a breath as he turned to face his son. “I thought this matter had been decided already.”

“You may have made a decision, but so have I. And I have decided that Louis is going to be my mate.”

“Not without my blessing, he won’t.”

“Just so I understand,” Harry said, stepping further into the large room so that the entire staff couldn’t listen in on their conversation, “are you refusing to bless our union for now, or forever?”

The king puffed up his chest a bit and raised his chin – clearly the young prince was in need of another reminder of the obligations that came with their positions. “My responsibility as king includes ensuring Turroch’s survival and prosperity beyond the tenure of my reign, and it is more fragile than you might imagine. It is a balancing act, and if you do not have the proper leverage on hand when you need it, it will all come crashing down around you and end up hurting the very ones you were trying to protect.”

Harry doubted they were just talking about his current situation, but just because his father had made choices he later regretted didn’t mean he knew what the best choices were for everyone else. “People are not leverage.”

Sometimes they were, but the king didn’t think Harry would take too kindly to that argument at the moment. “Power and resources are – neither of which Louis has very much of.”

Harry tried to quell his anger – blowing up now would just prove him to be the selfish, impulsive child his father saw him as. “So you refuse to give your blessing because of his status? Because he is poor? Because, if you recall, it was your own ruling that made him that way.”

Des would have pulled his hair right out if he had enough of it to spare – which was probably his son’s doing in the first place. “As my son, I want you to be happy. But as a prince – as the future ruler of this kingdom – I want you to _succeed_. And if giving my blessing for the first would preclude the latter… then I’m sorry, but I cannot give that to you.”

Harry nodded – he suspected that would be his father’s response, long-winded as it was. “It is, of course, your right as king to withhold your blessing from me, the prince.” His father almost looked relieved, but now it was time for plan B. “However, it is also within my rights to then tell you to go find a new fucking prince to succeed you.”

“What did you just say?”

This seemed to genuinely catch the king off guard and Harry smirked. “I thought I made my intentions quite clear – I am not like you, nor do I wish to be. So you can either accept that I will never sacrifice love for the sake of strategy, or you can replace me with someone who will.”

Des didn’t think his son would go to such lengths, and it took a moment for him to gather his thoughts and plan his next moves. He wasn’t lying about the frailty of the kingdom, and if he wasn’t careful, if Harry was serious about his threat, the resulting instability would be devastating. He did not want to lose his son, but he _would not_ lose lost his people. “So it’s love now, is it? Not just the throes of heat-lust?” 

A flush crept up Harry’s neck – equal parts anger and embarrassment. Of course his father had found out about their post-prison rendezvous. “No, not that that’s any of your business.”

Des chose to ignore the fact that it was most definitely his business, which was why they were even having this conversation right now. “It will soon be everyone’s business, if it’s not already. You two are not as subtle as you seem to believe.”

Harry unclenched his jaw and attempted to steer the conversation back under his control. “If everyone already knows, then there’s no harm in making it official. Let me bond with him.”

“And if I say no, you’d really give up your title?”

Harry almost smiled – in the end, he was just like his father, willing to give up everything in exchange for the one thing he wanted most. The only difference between them was what that one thing was. “I would.”

The king tried to ascertain whether his son was bluffing, but there was no uncertainty there. Sadness, maybe, and guilt. But no doubt. Harry was a stubborn dreamer that would walk away from his life – his duty, his family, and his kingdom – in search of a perfect, romanticized future that didn’t exist. And if he wanted his son to walk down a path he wouldn’t regret, he might just have to give him a little shove.

“Alright then,” the king said, finally sliding into his bed and under the covers. “If the prince wishes to be married, then I will begin making the arrangements.”

That seemed… way too easy, all things considered, and Harry was suspicious at his father’s sudden change of tone. “For… for what?”

“For the announcement of the royal engagement, of course.” Des smiled – a practiced mask perfected over many years of having to keep his cards close to the chest. “I assume Louis does still have some formal dress robes he can wear?”

***

Louis was the one who went looking for Harry when the invitation – stamped with Harry’s royal family crest – was delivered to him at the apothecary a couple weeks later with much less pomp and circumstance than he would have expected for the occasion. Niall, of course, had been thrilled – he always was when he thought he was proven right about something – but Louis was mortified. Which was why he slipped in a return message for Harry to meet him at the country estate that evening.

When he arrived, Harry greeted him with a triumphant smile, but Louis whacked him lightly on the chest. “An engagement party?” he squeaked. “Are you insane?”

Harry pulled him inside, sat him down at the kitchen table, and placed a warm cup of tea in front of him. “A formality,” he explained, taking the adjacent seat. “The first of many, I’m sure, but a small price to pay for securing our future together. Unless… you are having second thoughts?”

Louis took a sip of the mint tea, which did little to settle his now churning stomach. “I haven’t even had first thoughts yet – you brought up the idea weeks ago and then never said another word about it.”

“Well, I may have eventually gotten my father to agree to the arrangement, but it wouldn’t be unlike him to try and renegotiate or find a loophole or something. I didn’t want to get you involved until it was official, until I was certain my promise wouldn’t be a false one.”

“So this,” Louis’ fingertips traced the gold calligraphy scrolled across the thick linen paper he’d set on the table between them, “is… the king’s idea?” As settled as Harry seemed to think the matter was, Louis still had a bad feeling about all of this. Like it was some elaborate scheme to eliminate the presumed threat Louis was to the royal line. Flashbacks from his first marriage – from his first experience with a powerful man desperate to maintain the integrity of his family name – came to Louis’ mind and his hands began to shake so violently that he had to put his teacup down. “Does he know about—about—“

When Harry noticed the terror in Louis’ eyes as he trailed off, he got out of his chair and knelt on the floor in front of him, taking his hands and squeezing them tight enough to quell the tremors. “Hey, no, he doesn’t know about the baby. Nobody knows. You’re safe, you’re safe with me.”

Louis nodded, although that assurance wasn’t quite enough to convince him that the party wasn’t just a ploy to get him out in the open so he could be ‘taken care of’ by some faceless assassin in the crowd. “Then why did he agree to our bonding?”

“Because,” Harry started before pausing and blowing out a puff of air – he didn’t particularly want to have to tell Louis about the lengths he’d had to go to for this. It was more a reflection on his father’s character than it was on Louis’.

“Tell me,” Louis said softly, finally giving Harry’s hands an answering squeeze back. 

“Because I gave him the choice of having both of us on the throne one day or neither of us.”

“You… would give up your royal title?” Louis was conflicted about how he felt about that – he knew Harry had offered to do it, that night he found out about the baby, but part of Louis didn’t think he ever actually would. “Why?”

Harry was starting to wonder if he was the only person who took himself seriously. “Because I love you. I want to build a life with you, and if that means giving up who I was for who I want to be, then so be it.”

Louis swallowed harshly. Harry had just declared his love for him, had just offered to give up his future and the kingdom for him, and Louis… well, Louis was nauseous.

He stumbled across the room in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the wastebasket. His head was spinning too, although that had probably less to do with the morning sickness and more with the reality of what it would mean to be Harry’s chosen mate – hosting elaborate parties and schmoozing foreign dignitaries and following an infinite number of unwritten rules and being constantly judged and criticized and fulfilling expectations while also maintaining a sense of self and being willing to risk everything for the right thing and for once…

Maybe having all of that be worth it.

Harry was ready with a glass of water when Louis straightened himself back out and offered it to him with a small smile. “I’ll try not to take that personally.”

Louis closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of the cool liquid moving down his throat and found that it actually calmed his roiling stomach. He didn’t think he knew anymore what it meant to love or be loved properly – didn’t think he had it in him, aside from the one that was… well, literally inside him. But Harry was the first person in a long time that made him want to find out.

When Louis opened his eyes again – when he looked into Harry’s sweet, adoring, concerned face – he decided to believe that this time would be different. It was already different, and as much as Louis really did not want to enter back into the world of high society, he also wasn’t so focused on himself that he would let Harry give up the opportunity to make this a better kingdom for everyone else too. Because if Harry was willing to give that up for him – what was Louis willing to give up? “It just took me by surprise, is all,” he finally said.

“So I didn’t scare you off?”

It was a little late for that, Louis thought, but gave him a smile. “Tell me, your highness, what exactly is involved in a royal engagement party?”

***

“I look ridiculous,” Louis whined as Niall adorned him with the last piece of the outfit Harry had brought him that afternoon. He was practically giddy watching Louis open it, and it had seemed innocuous enough in the box – plus Louis couldn’t really afford to be picky after most of his former things had been reclaimed after Richard’s death. But now that he was putting it on… there seemed to be no end to the accoutrements and Louis wasn’t even sure he could stand up straight under the weight of it all.

“Then why are you wearing it?” Niall asked, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“Because Harry picked it out for me. And bought it for me. And had it tailored especially _for me_. For this occasion.”

“Well who says you can’t wear a cape to your own engagement party?”

“No one, because they shouldn’t have to.” Louis twirled around and scowled as the shiny embroidered fabric followed the movement with a dramatic glittering swish. “I’m pretty sure this is almost as heavy as I am.”

“Not with all that extra baby weight you been puttin’ on,” Niall teased, easily dodging Louis’ retaliatory jab. “You will stand out though.”

“I—“ It suddenly occurred to Louis that that might have been Harry’s plan all along. “Well it’s too late now anyway. The thing’s tonight and I haven’t got time to put together anything else.”

Niall snorted. “Yeah, thanks for the invite, by the way.”

“Not like I was in charge of the guest list,” Louis said, fiddling with the buttons on his vest and in the process displacing one of the chains around his neck. “And if I could have you go in my place, I would. Believe me.”

Niall took over the job of making the final adjustments to Louis’ outfit and then stilled his best friend’s fidgeting hands. He had intended to say something encouraging and heartfelt, but there was nothing he could say that Louis didn’t already know. So instead, pulling him into a fierce hug, Niall said, “Just make sure I’m invited to the wedding, yeah?”

When Louis arrived at the party – drawing exactly as much attention as he expected he would – his old habits kicked in. As over-the-top as he felt, he still managed to hold his head high as he marched up to the palace ballroom, pretending like he belonged there and presenting his invitation to the guard posted at the door and nodding politely to the other guests as if he had any fucking clue who they were.

Luckily, they took his cloak when he walked in and it was a literal weight lifted off his shoulders. He still had on about nine other individual garments that were strategically lined and layered with enough ruffles and bows and beads and metallic bits that the otherwise conspicuous bump beneath was practically unnoticeable. 

As he waited in line to be announced – and to distract himself from the impending spotlight on his arrival – he took note of the people around him. Some he recognized from previous soirees at Richard’s, although they didn’t likewise notice Louis since he wasn’t currently on the arm of a notable alpha. Others, who were not nearly so flashy, he pegged for either bored magistrates who were uninterested but nonetheless required to attend or ambitious social climbers that couldn’t afford to match the elite’s ostentatious fashions. 

A few stood out, though, wearing beveled stones and painted silk scarves that were uncommon in Turroch but highly popular in some of the eastern kingdoms and Louis wondered why the king would have invited foreign ambassadors to such a personal affair. Politics, probably – something Louis would have to learn, assuming he made it to the end of this night unscathed.

When Louis stepped forward to offer his name to presenter, his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he didn’t even hear the actual announcement. But the person behind him in line gave him an impatient nudge into the room and Louis held the banister in a death grip to keep his unsteady legs from causing him to fall down the long winding staircase.

His eyes darted around the room as he descended, and he was both relieved and a little offended that no one seemed to be paying his entrance any attention. Except Harry – and really, his was the only attention that really mattered.

The king tried to get his son to remain seated beside him and the queen on the stage at the front of the room – it was their party, after all, and it would be disrespectful to be go out and fraternize with the crowd while guests were still arriving. And it was downright scandalous for the prince to begin dancing with an unbonded omega that he wasn’t courting and just before his engagement was announced. 

But of course Harry didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t care that customs and traditions showed respect and maturity, that reputation and image were more about trust and authority than satisfying the ego.

But he would learn – the king would make sure of that.

“You look amazing,” Harry said as he offered his hand to Louis in invitation. He took it, and Harry slid his other into place at Louis’ waist in a way that was slightly too sensual to be considered appropriate for the setting. “Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

Louis couldn’t either, and he really hoped that the persistent nausea would give him a break for the evening. It seemed to abate as soon as he was in Harry’s arms, focusing on the flecks of gold in Harry’s eyes and not getting tangled up in any of his garments as he was whisked across the marble floors. It took a while for people to notice that their prince was among them – Harry had been anonymous to most of them for so long – but once they did it was hard to ignore the weight of their stares.

“Your father looks like he wants to murder me,” Louis noted with concern as he looked to the stage and Harry’s vacant seat.

In response, Harry closed the already questionable distance between them, enough that the curve of Louis’ stomach pressed against him and he smiled. “Don’t worry too much about that – I believe it is stuck that way after so many years of dealing with such a disappointment of an heir.”

There was some truth hidden in there beneath the sarcasm and Louis stopped, uncaring of the disapproving glares the other dancers casted his way. He wanted to take Harry’s face in his hands, but he was slightly afraid one of the royal guards might tackle him for such an action. Instead, he used the hand already clutched in Harry’s to tease apart his fingers and lock them together. He gave them a little tug and looked up into Harry’s eyes to say, in all seriousness, “You are a good man, and you are going to make a great king.” Then, lifting himself up and leaning in so that only Harry could hear, added, “Otherwise, I would not have agreed to marry you.”

Harry would have kissed him right then and there – propriety be damned – but he was pulled off to the side by his own guards and ushered back to the stage.

It was time for the announcement.

Harry was unexpectedly nervous as he joined his parents at the front of the room. His father addressed the crowd with the usual greetings and thanks and pleasantries while his mother gave him a tight smile and Harry wondered if she was just as unhappy with his choice as her husband. Although, come to think of it, her attitude was probably less about Louis and more about the fact that he’d threatened to cut ties with the family and he made a mental note to apologize to her later.

“As some of you may have noticed,” the king continued, finally getting to the point, “my son has developed a bit of a preference for male omegas.” There were nervous chuckles from the audience as they casted furtive glances toward Louis, who flushed with embarrassment at the same time Harry smirked. “I must admit, when my son told me he was ready to take a mate, I was not the most gracious in my response. But my son was determined. He fought fiercely for what he knew was right – both for himself and for his kingdom – even if the truth was difficult to bear.” He looked directly at Harry then. “And that is the mark of a true king.”

That was all the warning Harry had before a woman and young man and several guards, none of whom he recognized, came out from the room behind them and onto the stage.

“You may have noticed some foreign dignitaries in attendance tonight.” He gestured to the unfamiliar guests beside him as well a few in the audience that Louis had thought were visiting diplomats. “I suggest you welcome them with open arms, as they have become our allies.” The king pulled Harry to his side so that he stood next to the youngest of the foreigners – a dark, brooding, and strikingly handsome young man. Then, giving a nod to the woman – who must have been his mother, given the resemblance – dropped the bomb. “Now I invite you all to raise a glass to congratulate Prince Harry of Turroch on his engagement to Prince Zayn of Sandira – both our kingdoms are the better for it.”

Louis would have passed out if his body wasn’t frozen in placd with shock and horror. He was beginning to lose count of the number of times his life had gotten turned upside down but it never got easier to deal with, never hurt any less every time it happened. He didn’t know what was real anymore – how he felt or what he wanted or when things had changed.

But it almost didn’t matter because there was one thing that was certain – despite the declarations and the promises and the damned foolish hope… this was never Louis’ engagement party. For a moment, he’d let his guard down. For a moment, he’d let himself believe he could be happy. It was only a moment, but Louis was certain that if he stayed in that room another minute, it would destroy him.

Louis’ chest tightened painfully, surrounded by the inane chattering of gossip and the upbeat waltz that had started up and that damn _look_ Harry was giving him as he just stood there unmoving amidst the two royal families and his future fucking husband.

He wasn’t sure where he was going when he shouldered his way through the crowd, just that he needed to flee this nightmare. The closest unguarded door took him into a hallway that he was pretty sure led to the courtyard, which would then allow him to slip out uninterrupted and go through with his original plan of getting the hell out of town – there was nothing keeping him here anymore anyways. Well there was Niall, but he’d understood even back when Louis was thinking about leaving the first time.

As Louis berated himself about his own monumental stupidity, he realized that someone else had followed him out there. It was a face he vaguely remembered from the party, but he had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay him much mind. Apparently the guy had been talking, though, because a few minutes later Louis was pulled out of his thoughts by a soft tapping on his arm and when he turned he found the man staring at him expectantly. “Ehm, I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“I said isn’t it a happy day for the future of our kingdom?”

There was definitely something off about the guy – the same kind of incongruity Louis had sensed when he’d first met Harry, which he now realized was his omega was reacting to this man’s presence. Which meant he was on scent blockers. Which meant he was trying to disguise himself. “Of course,” Louis tried to answer casually – the way anyone else in attendance would.

“You don’t look too happy about the prince’s engagement, though.” The man smiled, revealing another discrepancy between the poor state of his oral health and what had to be a ludicrously expensive suit. “I saw you two dancing in there – you two have a thing?”

Red flags were popping up in Louis’ mind and he tried to back away but there was nowhere to go. “Not really,” he said tersely, eyes darting around and looking for an exit but they were surrounded by long stretches of hallway on either side.

“Wouldn’t put too much stock in it,” he continued, ignoring Louis’ flimsy denial. “They like to slum it every now and then, but in the end they never really care about anyone born without a tiara on their heads.” A roar of cheers sounded from back inside the ballroom. “Obviously.”

There was something desperate in the alpha’s eyes. He was used to being ogled and propositioned, but this wasn’t sexual. There was a different, maybe even literal kind of hunger driving him – more basic, more fundamental. More dangerous.

“Still,” he mused, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacked and pulling out a crude but sharp blade, “I bet he’d pay a hefty ransom to get back his favorite plaything.”

At first, Louis had thought his worst fears were coming true – that someone had been sent to tie up any loose ends that might get in the way of Turroch’s new alliance. But this guy was no professional assassin. Louis was pretty sure that was a farming tool in his hand, and as Louis did his best to appear submissive and non-threatening, bowing his head and slumping his shoulders, the large man relaxed slightly and made the mistake of getting a little too close, which gave Louis the opportunity to knock the weapon out of his hand and kick him in the knot and when he automatically hunched over Louis slammed his elbow up into his nose.

Definitely an amateur.

There was a satisfying crunch as a geyser of red erupted from his now crooked nose, but the injury was superficial and the man was determined.

Louis darted to the side, but he wasn’t exactly moving as quickly as he used to and a meaty hand closed around the fabric of his oversized puffed sleeve – as if he needed another reason to despise impractical fashion trends – and yanked him off balance. His head crashed into a tall blue and white porcelain vase on his way to the floor and some of his own blood added to the mess as his vision blurred and limbs became heavy and sluggish.

And even though this was all Harry’s fault – he wouldn’t even _be_ here if it wasn’t for Harry’s stupid empty promises – at least Louis had the satisfaction of knowing that he had probably destroyed something priceless as he was being kidnapped.


End file.
